Your Honor
by HasFar2Go
Summary: They are their own mutual anchors, North Stars, and touchstones. AU Post 3x15. Elena/Elijah
1. Learn to Be Good

****Title: Your Honor  
>Author:<strong> StrangeLittleSwirl  
><strong>Rating: <strong>T  
><strong>Fandom:<strong> The Vampire Diaries  
><strong>Category:<strong> (drama, romance, adventure, etc)  
><strong>Summary: <strong>**Elena leaves Mystic Falls to protect those she loves, goes into hiding, and seeks a way to pay for the damage she's caused. Two years later, an unexpected visitor walks into Bree's bar and threatens to destroy the fragile peace she's created. Elena/Elijah, mentions of other ships**  
><strong>Spoilers: <strong>**Up to and including 3x15**  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> **Language, violence**  
><strong>ShowBookverse: ****Show 'verse, up to and including 3x15**  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong>**_The Vampire Diaries_ belongs to its rightful owners and sadly, none of those people or companies are me. I'm only borrowing them, but I promise to return them once I am finished.**  
><strong>Author's Notes: <strong>Thanks to **midnight_burn** for beta duties. Mistakes are all entirely mine. **

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><p>Title is taken from Bon Iver's Blood Bank.<p>

Chapter title is taken from Des Ark's My Saddle is Waitin'**.  
><strong>

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><p><strong>F<strong>ollowing Abby's transition, Elena packs carefully and quietly, preparing over the span of a week.

There are a few mementos to pack: the diary that she hasn't had time or desire to write in for a while now (what would she want to look back on now?), a few pieces of jewelry that had belonged to her mother (emotionally too important to part with), a handful of photos (she had the faces contained in them committed to memory, but she wants these people with her, physically, selfishly).

Clothing is chosen from a utilitarian point of view; what will hold up and last is folded neatly and placed in the suitcase hidden beneath her bed, out of the sight of any prying eyes.

She withdraws a massive amount of money from the account her parents had established for her, and the crisp bills are tucked in between layers of clothing.

The letters are the hardest part. Unbidden, she recalls Elijah's words (they are burned into her mind, inscribed on the insides of her eyelids, echoed constantly in her thoughts) and knows that whatever she decides to write to her friends, it will never measure up to what he wrote.

Each letter is different, but they boil down to the same thing: she loves them. All of them. As she writes the letters, the pile amasses, and her hands become cramped and ink-stained. In the end, the mass of paper – each one a person she endangers – puts to rest any doubts she had about her plan.

Elena owes her friends and family so much for all that they have done and given up for her, and somehow they have to keep sacrificing more. Leaving Mystic Falls is the best thing she can do for them.

It's not walking away, she tells herself.

It's not abandonment.

The letters are left tidily in rows antithetical to the messy, complicated nature of friendships, on the living room coffee table (Damon's, she leaves on her bed, propped up by her stuffed bear - she's ruined whatever they could have had, she knows this and it hurts, but she needs to say 'goodbye' to him differently).

The meeting with the family lawyer is done discretely in his office, and since his family name can be found beside Gilbert and Salvatore and Forbes in the oldest cemeteries of Mystic Falls, he asks no questions when she requests the house to be signed over to Matt, and her brother when he turns eighteen. At least by doing this she can provide them a little protection. Her parents' accounts will more than suffice to cover the bills.

Matt's new, small and spartan apartment is in a complex that is virtually empty in the afternoon; while Matt is returning from the breakfast shift at the Grill, most of his neighbors are at work. He opens the door cautiously, and while he tries to hide his concerned frown, it appears on his tired face.

"I'm not here to ask any favors or anything," she promises him quickly. "I wanted to give you this."

He studies the offered keys and document with weary suspicion, then after a moment sighs and leans against his doorway. "Don't do this, Elena."

When did it come to this? Part of her desperately just wants to go back to the way things were, three years ago. Thinking of their younger, happier selves makes her think of them younger still, when she and Matt couldn't see over her kitchen counter, the world was big but not scary, and their inevitable wedding had ambitious plans that involved dirt bikes and all the Mondo they could drink.

Present day Matt, with troubles and thoughts she doesn't know about because they haven't had a conversation like that in a long time, reluctantly agrees to sign the document. She knows now she should have asked him to move in months ago, when the bills for the Donovan home had proven too much for him.

"I _will_ see you again," he declares, muffled by her shoulder in their hug. "I'm not saying goodbye."

Elena lets out a shaky breath she had not known she was holding when she passes the town's limits. Her suitcase is on the backseat, a bag of stakes and other hunting gear shares the front passenger seat with the white oak ash and dagger she found at the boarding house.

Klaus will be delivered her blood in the morning, as well as a note in which she explains that she will send him a regular supply of it so long as he does not harm her friends and family, directly or indirectly. Negotiating with him is not the same as negotiating with Elijah, but she can only hope his desire for the ongoing security of his hybrids will be enough to make him want to adhere to her offer and its stipulations.

Georgia is a long and lonely drive away, but she arrives an hour or so before closing time at Bree's bar.

She barely makes it through the door before she finds herself unable to move; she's frozen to the spot and the crowd is so dense no one sees anything wrong with someone standing by the door. Bree sidles over, twists Elena's arm behind her back, and walks her through the bar to a storage room. Once inside, Bree locks the door and glares her down.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you on the spot. Did Damon send you to make sure his dirty work was successful? It's been long enough, figured he would have found out by now."

"_What _are you talking about?" Elena's voice is shrill. Death threats against herself aren't that uncommon anymore, but she typically has an idea as to why they are issued.

Bree appears suspicious, then shocked, but finally slightly angered in a manner of seconds.

"Damon killed me, just before you left to go back to Mystic Falls."

As always, the icy black chill she feels when she hears about the acts of violence perpetrated by people she knows -trusts, cares for even - creeps up her spine and into her gut.

Taking her silence as a sign to continue, Bree elaborates, "He came in here and ripped my heart out...I take it he didn't share that little detail with you?"

One of her many pieces of jewelry must be spelled like the Gilbert rings...not that Damon knew. Guilt, unbidden, rises in her gut, as well as the memory of her own brother's temporary death at Damon's hands. Her tongue trips in her guilt. "Bree, I didn't...I'm so sorry, I didn't know, I swear-"

The witch holds up her hand. "Save it," she mutters. "What do you want?"

Elena shakes her head. "I couldn't ask anything of you, not after that."

Bree gives her an impatient look. "What is it, honey? I've got a bar to run."

Reluctantly, Elena answers: "I was going to ask if you know anything about Lucy Bennett, otherwise, I was going to ask if we could a locator spell to find her."

"Why?"

The defensive response jars Elena. "I-I need to talk to her about paying something back." On the drive towards Georgia, she had decided this was the best way of explaining the situation.

The taller woman spends what feels like an eternity studying her. Elena holds her breath.

"Alright," Bree says finally. "You can wait until she comes at closing time."

Elena is floored. "She comes _here?"_

Bree nods as she unlocks the door. She seems a little more relaxed now, but only slightly. "You got lucky, kid. Luce is my partner. My car is in the shop so she's been dropping and picking me up at closing."

It takes Elena a second too long to process this, so by the time she starts walking out after the bar owner, she is being pushed back in.

"I can't have the Doppelganger seen just hanging around my bar. Lucy and I have tried to put as much of that business behind us as we can."

Isn't minimizing damage to others part of all of this? She squashes the insulted feelings before they have a chance to start. The younger woman looks around for a stool or box, preparing to make herself comfortable for the hour until the bar closes.

Bree rolls her eyes. "Come here."

Elena tries to stand still as the witch murmurs in a low voice, and it feels as if there is a light mist falling on her skin.

Eventually Bree ends her spell and stands back, surveying the work of her glamor. Finding that it passes her judgment, she turns to leave.

There is definitely blond hair where her dark strands used to rest on her shoulders. Pressing her hands over face reveals sharper angles than her own, and when she tries to slip by a storage shelf, her wider hips bang into it. Definitely different.

Lucy comes into the bar with her beautiful features, tall stature, and eyes only for Bree. They share a quick kiss and its brevity must trouble Lucy. Bree, in the middle of filling a beer pitcher, jerks her head in Elena's direction.

After the bar closes, Bree excuses herself to make a brief phone call and Lucy burns sage before sitting across from Elena in the cramped back office.

"Bree told me you are looking to settle a debt," she says.

Elena nods.

"I don't recall ever actually doing anything to _help_ you-" the Bennett witch says, but stops when Bree comes in.

"She's fine, knows we'll be home in a bit," responds the bar owner to her partner's questioning look.

Assured, Lucy returns to the conversation. "Why do you feel indebted to me, Elena?"

The youngest woman takes a breath before launching into her explanation.

"I think I owe the Bennett family, actually. I owe the Bennett family...a life, I think. There was a situation where I was in danger, and in the process of trying to save me, Abby Bennett was killed...but not before being fed vampire blood."

"I haven't seen her in years," says Lucy quietly, and beside her, Bree's lips thin. Their hands seem to seek one another like magnets. "Just tell me, Elena."

"She's...she chose to turn, but she's handled it well. My friend um, and Bonnie's friend, Caroline, she's been helping her out."

She explains, as briefly as possible, what had transpired, emphasizes that they were up against part of the family of Original vampires, as well as their mother...she downplays Damon's part in all of it as much as possible, because even if she still is angry (at him for following through on his promise to 'always chose her', and at herself for not taking his words seriously), he's got enough to deal with on his own.

When she's finished, it feels like forever before Bree or Lucy says anything.

"You don't owe anyone a thing, honey," declares Bree. "And that line of thinking has got to change."

"The Bennett family has spent centuries being forced to serve vampires," Lucy sighs, "that is true, but what happened to Abby is not-"

Elena can't help it. "-I can't stay in Mystic Falls. My friends and family are in danger, and I can't...It needs to stop. I have to find a way to make it stop. Lucy, please, let me...just tell me what I can do, what could help protect the Bennetts. You and Bonnie and her Grams and Abby, all of you have done so much to try to help me, and I need to do something to help you."

Obligation, debt, guilt...whatever it should be called, Elena feels the need to do something. Can't they see this?

Lucy closes her eyes, and exhales heavily. "Maggie," she says quietly after a long moment.

Bree considers whatever her partner is suggesting, humming as she does. Whatever it is, it's serious, judging by their shared, serious demeanor. "It could work.."

The Bennett witch fixes Elena with a serious look. "Are you really willing to help us, to do something for the Bennetts?"

Elena nods, vigorously. "Anything."

The bartender shakes her head, sadly. "There will come a day where you learn to be careful about how you throw that word around, baby," she says, lowly.

"She means it, and you know it," Lucy says firmly, then continues. "Elena, you met us both at times when we were, well, we weren't our selves. Both of us were frantic to protect our daughter, Maggie, and I reasoned that helping Katherine would be a means to that end. I'd left Bree-" at this she squeezes the woman's hands, giving her a meaningful, apologetic look "-and had taken Maggie to stay with family."

"I was grieving a lot of things when you and Damon came into my bar," explains Bree, "and the loss of Lexi, one of my best friends...it put me over the edge."

Elena remembers how falsely cheerful and bright Bree had been that day, how easily she'd accused Damon of ruining her life. It all makes sense.

Lucy removes a locket from around her neck, and works at the clasp as she speaks. "I had Maggie when I was young, before I really knew anything about myself, or Bree, or what being a witch means. She's a Bennett witch, Elena, a very powerful one. We've raised her with Bree's last name to afford her some anonymity, but I only goes so far. Part of me wishes that we had introduced her to Bonnie; they're so close in age, so similar in talent.."

The photograph inside must be older, if Maggie is around her age. There's a small, beautiful, smiling little girl in the picture on one side, and Bree on the other.

Bree crosses her arms, not defiantly, but out of what appears to be a reaction to feeling so emotionally exposed. "We will do _anything_ to protect our daughter, Elena. And if you are serious in your desire to help us keep her safe, I think Luce and I can do a little work of our own to protect _your_ family."

A weight that Elena has not realized was there is lifted from her shoulders. "Thank you," she replies, as sincerely as possible. "What do you want me to do?" She's a little nervous, but she's promised them this, and they are willing to ensure the safety of those she left in Mystic Falls.

"First, we finish this glamor, make sure it's a strong one," explains Bree. "Then we take you back home with us and introduce you to Maggie. After that, we cast a binding spell, as a way to confirm our negotiation."

"And then," adds Lucy, "we call upon the Petrova Fire."


	2. I Am Displaced

****Title: Your Honor  
>Author: strangelittleswirl<strong>  
><strong>Rating: <strong>T  
><strong>Fandom:<strong> The Vampire Diaries  
><strong>Category:<strong> (drama, romance, adventure, etc)  
><strong>Summary: <strong>Elena leaves Mystic Falls to protect those she loves, goes into hiding, and seeks a way to pay for the damage she's caused. Two years later, an unexpected visitor walks into Bree's bar and threatens to destroy the fragile peace she's created. Elena/Elijah, mentions of other ships  
><strong>Spoilers: <strong>Up to and including 3x15  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> Language, violence  
><strong>ShowBookverse: **Show 'verse, up to and including 3x15  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong>_The Vampire Diaries_ belongs to its rightful owners and sadly, none of those people or companies are me. I'm only borrowing them, but I promise to return them once I am finished.  
><strong>Author's Notes: <strong>Thanks to **midnight_burn**. Mistakes are all entirely mine. **

* * *

><p>Chapter title comes from the Azure Ray song.<p>

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><p><strong>E<strong>lena stares blankly at the two witches sitting across from her. "I thought that was just a phrase...Katherine said it, when she was in the tomb. I just thought it was her saying I was..." she trails off, searching for the proper adjective.

"Bitchy?" offers Bree, deadpanning. "That's just Katherine. No, the Petrova Fire is very much a real thing."

"I doubt Katherine even knows that, since it's mostly a secret passed amongst witches," muses Lucy as she extracts a tablet out of her purse. She taps on the screen and after a few swipes of her finger, brings up images of ancient looking pages. She catches sight Elena's increasing bafflement. "What? Witches are going digital; lugging a Grimoire around is impractical."

The pages are in Latin...at least that's what Elena assumes is Latin.

"By the time Katherine heard of the Petrova Fire, it had become something short of a myth, but it was initially created by Ayanna as a way to keep the forces of nature balanced: Tatia may have died, but her Doppelgangers would be given some protection, if it was called upon. Tatia's child's family took the name Petrova, and Katherine was a direct descendant."

Surveying the page on the screen, Elena sees a drawing of a woman with long dark hair surrounded by flames and it vaguely looks like her. "It's not _really_ fire, is it?" she asks worriedly.

Bree lets out a sharp laugh. "No, honey. It's figurative. The Petrova Fire is a barrier, a defense against Klaus or other supernatural forces that threaten the life of the Doppelganger. Most of them died before they could find a witch with that knowledge, and even then, it was at the witch's discretion to help them."

'Most of them'. There were others. While she and Katherine may be the only Doppelgangers that were found and used (or at least planned to be used) during the sacrifice, there have been others. It's chilling news.

"Which is why we need to finish this conversation at home." Bree stands up and motions for Elena to follow them. "Please tell me you rented a car," she says while she flips off switches as they make their way to the side door.

Elena's step falters, and embarrassment flushes her face. She has tried to think of everything, and switching cars was fairly obvious but..."I didn't think of that."

Bree glances at the vehicle wearily. "It's a fairly common model, and it was all regulars at the bar tonight. We should be fine."

Elena knows the woman is worried, and she bites her lip and looks away. No more mistakes, she thinks to herself.

"Cody?" asks Lucy of Bree, already pulling out her phone and dialing.

Bree answers her affirmatively while locking the service door. "Get what you want from the car, because it's about to get stolen. And don't worry about someone attempting to contact you about your vehicle; Cody runs a very efficient chop shop."

Apparently, running a bar means having all sort of convenient connections. Go figure.

Elena hastily scrambles to pull her suitcase and duffel from the vehicle, and after a moment of deliberation, removes the registration and some other identifying information. Lucy helps her stow her belongings in the back of her sleek sports car and Elena pivots in her seat when they pull out of the parking lot so she can give her car one last glance.

There's no emotional attachment to the thing, but it's another part of her life she's casting off, and it's a foreign feeling.

Bree and Lucy's home is a beautiful, contemporary home in an upper, middle class neighborhood. The houses are set far apart, on at least an acre of land each, and the neighborhood itself is in the woods, meaning that each home feels private, isolated. While it means no neighbor taking out the garbage could accidentally see the Bennett-LaForte's practicing magic, it also means that no one can see when you're being attacked or someone is dying on your porch.

Not that living in a closely-grouped neighborhood has ever done the Gilberts any good. No one even paid attention when Jeremy was hacking up a body on their front porch. And she _knows_ that there is a neighborhood watch group, because Alaric had been dragged to a meeting by their next-door neighbors at some point, and her Dad had been a member.

There's a girl – she assumes it's Maggie – in a window seat, peaking out the curtains and eying Elena inquisitively as they climb the front porch steps, and she hastily scrambles to open the door when the trio reach the top step.

"Is everything okay?" she asks anxiously, stepping back to allow them into the house, and while she is clearly curious as to who this newcomer is, she doesn't seem to be worried about invitations into the home.

There is a very strong floral smell as soon as she's inside the well-decorated home; it's almost a rose scent, but not quite. Vervain.

In short order, Bree and Lucy introduce their daughter to 'Aimee', and explain that they knew her parents who have recently passed (the car accident aspect of the story rings so true it stings), and so she will be staying with them to complete her last year and a half of high school. It's a story they quickly cobbled together in the car on the drive here.

Repeating the second half of her junior year and completely repeating senior year isn't necessarily a sacrifice; Elena hasn't even been in school enough to make the bare minimum number of days to graduate. After Alaric was called down to the front office about it, Damon casually strolled into Administration and suddenly, Elena could take off from school whenever she needed to. As bad as it sounds, she's needed it.

But now Maggie is who she needs to focus on, and whatever Lucy and Bree have planned will somehow enable Elena to protect her. This means fitting in with Maggie, in her group of friends...Elena was Miss Popular until her parents' accident, but she's still nervous about going through the motions.

Maggie accepts this new resident in stride, and appear to be a bright, cheerful girl. She's barely younger than Elena, but there is something about her that makes her _seem_ even younger. As Maggie gives her a tour of the house, Elena puts her finger on it: Maggie is Elena, Caroline, and Bonnie sophomore year. She is carefree, and light. There's an easiness to her that's gone from the vampire and witch she calls her best friends, young women who have to look over their shoulders, who don't trust strangers because they could have fangs or powers themselves, who suddenly understand that horrible things can happen even when you do nothing to cause them.

She's sweet though; it won't be hard to befriend her, Elena thinks. That part, at least, will be easy.

But teaching her about defense against vampires, that's something she is terribly worried about. Bree and Lucy admitted they've been, perhaps, a little_ too_ protective of their daughter; she knows about vampires and wolves and all forms of creatures supernatural, but not why they would want to harm her, or use her. Elena feels she barely knows a thing about the subject, but 'anything is something' they tell her.

It's Friday night, although it won't be for too much longer; the events of the day are catching up with Elena, who stumbles, lethargic, after Maggie when they return to the kitchen. Bree is busily placing candles around the room as her partner places a tray and a small, silver knife on the table.

Almost instantly, Maggie's glance flits nervously to Elena. "Um, Mama," she says, attempting to sound calm. "Are you sure-"

"Aimee knows, baby," Bree assures her daughter, walking over to give her a quick hug and a kiss to the top of her head. "She's promised to help us with something, but we want to talk to you about it first."

They explain why being a Bennett witch, and being a powerful witch, is such a wonderful gift. They explain why they sent her to stay with family far away from home. They explain, finally and awfully, why there are people who would want to use her for this.

Elena sits quietly by as Maggie processes this, observes (firsthand and for the first time as a witness and not a participant) what it's like to have your understanding of the world be forever altered. Finally, when she can't stand it a second longer, she grabs the girls hand and offers her a sympathetic smile.

"It's going to be okay, Maggie. Your parents have a plan."

Lucy makes a soothing noise, trying to dismiss her daughter's anxiety. "Aimee is going to keep you safe," she explains. "She's not a witch, but she has a very special kind of magic, and we're going to use it to keep anyone from hurting you."

It's obvious how much this bothers Bree, as she picks up the ornate knife off of its tray with reluctance. "We're going to bind you two with a blood spell, Mags. Just a small cut, and your part is over."

The girl nods, but Elena can see that the girls shoulders are shaking, and her lip is starting to bleed where it's been worried raw. She turns to Elena, her expression confused and scared. "Why are you doing this?"

All three women stare at Elena, and she takes a moment to respond.

"I promised your parents I would help protect the Bennett family, and you are the most important part of it. Some of your family members have done the same, and sacrificed a lot for me." She wonders for a moment, what it is that Maggie wants to hear. What would she want to hear? "I've volunteered for this, I promise. This is an act of my own free will."

Maybe this will spawn more questions than answers when she thinks about it later, but for the time being, Maggie accepts this. "Okay," she finally says, sniffing long and loud. She pushes her dark curls out of her face, sets her shoulders, and looks to Bree. "Okay. Alright."

Faster than Elena has ever seen Bonnie do the same, the candles surrounding them are lit, bright and steady flames that brighten the dark room.

It's a small cut, but it causes Maggie to flinch. Elena is a little more prepared, and has received more than her share of injuries from magic over the years, so she's happy the blood loss is minor – it's precious stuff these days. Bree puts their palms together so the small cuts are lined up.

The blood bond is quick, effortless on their parts, until Elena has to promise to keep Maggie safe, and swear it on her own life. Bree explained early that this part 'overrides' the Petrova Fire. When it's finished, Lucy places a small bandage on Maggie's cut, makes her a cup of tea, and sends her upstairs. She bandages Elena as well.

"This next part," she explains once they hear Maggie's door shut upstairs, "I didn't want her seeing. She's curious and she'd find out, somehow, who you are."

Prior to starting, they rehearse Elena's responses. The language feels heavy and thick against her tongue, and at one point, Bree pats her on the back. "You'll get the hang of it."

She feels a little dizzy when she realizes that she'll be able to do magic – only minor magic outside of protective magic, they warn her – when this is finished. Maggie is now part of her, closer than a sister even, by blood and magic, so when they invoke this ancient part of Elena's blood, it will keep her safe as well.

It's well past sunrise when they finish the incantation, but Elena doesn't feel any different. She helps them extinguish the diminished candles with a cup before climbing the stairs to a foreign bed with unfamiliar sheets in the house that will now serve as her home for the foreseeable future.

Just as the trio wish one another a goodnight, the Bennett mother pulls Elena into a sudden, strong hug. "Thank you," she whispers, voice thick with emotion.

It's a full circle, Elena thinks as she turns to her side in the bed, and looks out the window. Bennetts and the Doppelganger intertwined, but differently now.

She's given her word, and taken her first steps down some completely unknown, wild path, but she hopes she can prove herself worthy of their trust. Panic and self-doubt flutters in her gut.

Involuntarily, her thoughts stray to Elijah, Elijah and his letter. He would understand this, she thinks, and it comforts her as she closes her eyes to finally find sleep.


	3. Gliding Like a Satellite

****Title: Your Honor  
>Author: strangelittleswirl<strong>  
><strong>Rating: <strong>T  
><strong>Fandom:<strong> The Vampire Diaries  
><strong>Category:<strong> **(drama, romance, adventure, etc)**  
><strong>Spoilers: <strong>**Up to and including 3x15**  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> **Language, violence**  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong>_ The Vampire Diaries_ belongs to its rightful owners and sadly, none of those people or companies are me. I'm only borrowing them, but I promise to return them once I am finished.  
><strong>Author's Notes: <strong>Thanks to **midnight_burn**. Mistakes are all entirely mine.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So my plans to get this entire thing posted by 8pm (2 hours ago) failed miserably...work related shenanigans ensued this past week but they all culminated in me being considered for a fantastic job opportunity so...who knows. I'll keep on posting as frequently as my new schedule allows. **

****Chapter title comes from "Lifeboats" by Snow Patrol.

* * *

><p><strong>C<strong>aroline and Bonnie are laughing, smiles wide and sparkling and seemingly carefree. Stefan's arm extends past them to hold out the camera, at an awkward angle. Elena knows that crooked smile anywhere, knows it means he's truly enjoying the company and the experience.

_Trip home and catching a game with Stef and Bon! Go Timberwolves! _the caption says beneath the photo.

Elena pushes feelings of nostalgia and homesickness to the side as she closes the Facebook tab and quickly scans her college email account, checking to see if her classmate has finally sent her his part of the group assignment. No luck, sadly.

She'll look again after their morning run. It appears, though, that she and Maggie are just going to have to do this damn thing themselves.

She quickly changes into her workout clothes, and pulls her wavy blond hair back into a messy bun, then slides a headband on to keep back the inevitable frizz that will develop. Two and a half years of wearing this glamor everyday and she _still_ sometimes feels a jolt of unfamiliarity when she catches sight of herself in the mirror.

She walks through the shared bathroom to the other girl's room, and finds the curtains still drawn, and a pile of pillows and blankets, as always, covering her friend. A small wave in the direction of the windows, and they are wrenched open.

From beneath the mount of bedclothes, there's a hiss followed by a groan and Maggie burrows deeper. "Screw you, Aimee," comes a muffled voice.

The blond yanks back the covers and grabs the nearest pillow, smacking the prostrate girl with it. "Get your lazy ass out of bed," she commands, but the grin on her face betrays that she's not serious. "We're doing four miles today."

"I hate you."

"You love me."

It's weird, how easily they've fallen into this routine and friendship, as almost-sisters but definite friends. The small age gap has been conquerable, Elena's unknown past forgotten as they started school together and she quickly was accepted into Maggie's small but close-knit group of friends. None of them knew her secret, so suddenly having a confidante was appreciated by the Bennett witch.

Mags and 'Aimee' are enrolled in the same classes at a nearby, small college. It's not Duke, but then again, Aimee Hawkins wouldn't feel obligated to go to school there.

They're two peas in a pod, joined at the hip. Maggie teaches her magic, and she teaches her how to defend herself against vampires. They study for their classes while tending to the vervain that Lucy has nurtured into a healthy bloom in the basement. They work matching shifts at Bree's bar. If one of them goes out on a date (always someplace close, never for long if it's not a double date), the other waits up to hear how it went.

Maggie will never replace her friends in Mystic Falls, but she can't help but care for this bright, happy person. Given the circumstances, she's been very lucky.

The Petrova Fire is typically dormant, but from time to time it prickles beneath her skin. There has only been one time where it was every fully called upon, and Elena is thankful for that.

They had been at a party, and Maggie had slipped at the edge of the pool and hit her head on the side of the diving board on the way down. Instantly, Elena had felt as though there was something pulling at her gut, and found herself sprinting to the edge of the pool, diving in, and grabbing at the unconscious girl.

It had felt like compulsion, like being a puppet on strings. Her sense of apprehension wasn't calmed until the doctor in the emergency had assured them she'd be fine.

She's promised to protect the girl with her life. If she dies, Elena could, too.

Missing Mystic Falls and the people she's left behind has been the worst part, though. From time to time, she goes online, checks their Facebook pages briefly. On several occasions, some of them have left messages for her, posted on her wall, but they go unanswered.

She's basically stalking her old life. She's accepted this.

Elena refocuses herself and whacks the girl with a pillow again. "Up."

After much protesting, she's able to get Maggie out the door and jogging down the street. They carry stakes with them, and pepper spray canisters filled with concentrated vervain.

'Training' has been easy enough. Elena doesn't know much but what she does know, she's taught the girl. They kick and punch at a dummy in the basement, and practice staking it, but Elena knows this is nothing like facing a real vampire, and she worries for Maggie.

They eat breakfast and head to the campus, and sit through classes (neither knows what they want to do with their lives, but Elena knows Maggie has a passion for History, and she thanks God that Alaric was such a great teacher because she'd struggle through those inevitable classes, otherwise) before returning home to ready themselves for their shift at Bree's. Go to bed. Repeat.

Part of Elena enjoys the routine, the monotony. Another part of her all but craves the frenetic energy of her life in Mystic Falls. If this is safety, she thinks that evening as she delivers onion rings to a couple of high school kids on an awkward first date, she really took for granted the freedoms that she had before.

'Aimee' is just a little more quiet than Elena, just a little more shy. She makes an effort to tuck her hair behind her ear more, to not make eye contact as much; she spent a lot of time ensuring that there is nothing about Aimee that would remind anyone of Elena, but she can never be certain.

Maggie bops over, singing along to the local band in the corner playing covers. She puts her tray down and grabs at her best friend's hands, forcing her to dance. "Oh live a little!" she cajoles over the music.

What Maggie doesn't know is that Elena has felt_ wrong_ for the last two hours. There's a faint burning under her skin, and about an hour and a half ago, she'd felt the prickle increase for a moment before dissipating. As soon as the song ends and Maggie goes back to taking care of her tables, she's making a beeline over to Bree at the bar to tell her something's up.

Except when the song ends, Maggie carts her to the kitchen to help with a large order up. Together, they deliver everything to the table, and Elena is in the middle of squatting next to a kid in a booster seat to ask them if they need anything (they're regulars, and he'll want 'kessip', as he always does) when she finds her eyes moving to the door, in accordance with a little voice in her head commanding her to _look_, and it's not the Fire.

He hasn't changed at all; he looks like he did the last time she saw him when he had left her in the cave. As always, he's a shadow in dark clothes, and he's kept his hair short, although it looks as though it has grown slightly.

Elena assures the boy she'll be back with his 'kessip', and starts to make her way over to the bar, forcing herself to remain calm, absolutely calm.

She's intercepted by an elderly couple (totally out of place, but they enjoy the atmosphere and turn off their hearing aids whenever they come) getting up from their table, and she has to wait for them to finish putting on their coats before she can sidle around them to the bar. As she waits, she whips out her order pad and hastily scribbles the word 'Elijah' on the page.

The couple thanks her and hands her the tip, since she's standing there, and she thanks them for coming, but finds herself still glancing over at Elijah fearful that he recognized her, despite the fact that her voice is entirely different.

Suddenly his eyes slide across the room to hers, and her heart skips a beat. His dark eyes seem to bore into hers.

_He knows._

She speeds her steps until she is leaning against the wooden bar, and slides two drink order sheets – one real, one carrying her message – to Bree as she mouths 'vampire'. The bar owner has had so many years of putting up with countless sorts of bullshit, she just continues to fill orders and act like nothing is going on.

At least, that's what Elena _thinks_ is the case, until she turns to go warn Maggie to be careful, but spots Elijah making his way to the bar.

He knows. He knows. He knows. How could he know?

She tries to calm herself down, rationalize that there is no way he could know, but then he rounds the edge of a table of college kids and he's getting entirely too close to be good. Elena forgot how gracefully the vampire could walk, and the way her stomach always flips when he's near. His glance pins her for a second, but then he is about to address Bree.

"I try to keep this sort of business for later," she cuts him off firmly, but Elena can sense the caution that rises beneath her apparent calm. "Aim, your order's up."

She pivots, walks away quickly, grabs Maggie by the arm, and hauls her into the storage room.

"What's going on?" the girl asks. "You've been acting weird for like, hours."

Taking a deep breath before she starts to speak, Elena prays Maggie will understand that this is one of those instances they've trained for. Elijah would never make a casual visit to a witch he's never met, so there must be some reason he's here to see Bree. "There's a vampire in the bar, okay? Just...just be careful, and stick with me. Don't go anywhere by yourself, even if it's for a _second_."

Personally? She trusts Elijah. But she knows that he'll put family first, no matter what. Maggie is a Bennett witch, and since Abby is now a vampire, the last two years have meant that she and Lucy are probably the only mother-daughter pair from the family left, and the most powerful.

"And here," she adds, pulling out the small vial of vervain she keeps on her at all times from its place in her pocket. The vial is skinny and glass, but the concentrated dose that it contains will counteract any attempts at compulsion for about a day...and this is in addition to the vervain tea they drink at least once a day.

Maggie knocks it back quickly, and quietly. Elena feels a small amount of relief that she's listening to her. They make their way back out to their tables.

Elijah parks himself at a table by the band, which allows him a view of the door and the bar, which Bree has never left, even for a moment. As the evening has progressed, Elena has watched her face become increasingly grim. The last customers leave, and Bree locks the door.

The vampire sits in a chair before the women, and Elena makes a show of pulling a stake out of her boot; it's more for Bree and Maggie's benefit than an attempt to intimidate Elijah. He doesn't even acknowledge the weapon as he leans back in his seat. Somehow, he makes sitting on a rickety chair with sticky varnish appear regal.

When the question of her presence is raised, Bree quickly explains that Aimee Hawkins is basically their adopted daughter, and she's a witch; any business with their family includes her.

It's awkward, but tense, as Elijah introduces himself, and assures them he means no harm, but hopes for their assistance in something. Beside her, Maggie tenses; dealings with vampires were something they have told her to avoid at all costs.

The bartender cuts the vampire off. "Where's Lucy?" she asks, deathly quiet.

Maggie inhales sharply. "What's wrong with Mom?" she asks, and Elena hears the hysteria creeping into the girl's tone. The last two hours have been tense for her, and she's handled it well, but this may be what breaks her.

"I have more than sufficient evidence to believe that my brother, Klaus, has taken her. In fact, there was an attempt made by two of my brother's compatriots to enter this bar and remove Margaret, but they were stopped by some sort of barrier at the door. LaForte as her surname or not, my brother has ways of finding out information he finds pertinent, and he is very much set on a pair of Bennett witches for what he has planned."

Elena feels her gut plummet. Whatever Klaus is up to takes power, a lot of it, or at least two witches capable of channeling large amounts of magic. The attempted kidnapping must have been the reason for that prickling under her skin, earlier.

Bree's thoughts must be similar. "Which spell?" she asks, tone banking no argument.

When Elijah responds it's resigned, reluctant, and she's not sure if he feels those things in regards to his brother or the spell itself. She knows him well enough to read his answer in the lines of his shoulders and the shape of his mouth and slightest of tells on his face.

"The Resurrection Spell."


	4. You Were Dancing in My Inner Thoughts

****Title: Your Honor  
>Author:<strong> StrangeLittleSwirl  
><strong>Rating: <strong>T  
><strong>Fandom:<strong> The Vampire Diaries  
><strong>Category:<strong> (drama, romance, adventure, etc)  
><strong>Summary: <strong>**Elena leaves Mystic Falls to protect those she loves, goes into hiding, and seeks a way to pay for the damage she's caused. Two years later, an unexpected visitor walks into Bree's bar and threatens to destroy the fragile peace she's created. Elena/Elijah, mentions of other ships**  
><strong>Spoilers: <strong>**Up to and including 3x15**  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> **Language, violence**  
><strong>ShowBookverse: ****Show 'verse, up to and including 3x15**  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong>**_The Vampire Diaries_ belongs to its rightful owners and sadly, none of those people or companies are me. I'm only borrowing them, but I promise to return them once I am finished.**  
><strong>Author's Notes: <strong>Thanks to **midnigh********t_burn** for beta duties. Mistakes are all entirely mine. **

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><p>Chapter title is from "You Need Better" by Lanterns on the Lake.<p>

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><p><strong>T<strong>he Resurrection Spell is even older than the curse placed upon Klaus. It's origins date back to a time before even Ayanna was born. It requires the bones of the deceased upon the anniversary of their death in the location of their birth. It requires enough magic to facilitate all aspects of the spell. It requires the blood of a descendant of the deceased. Initially, Elena thinks that the final component – a bone from the person who seeks to resurrect the deceased – is a little biblical, and then she realizes that the first mention of Adam's rib was written _after_ this spell was created.

It's also a spell of intent, which means you really_ really_ need to want it for it to work, so Klaus can't go about pulling a bone from any random person (he's been known to do worse for less).

Because the person Klaus wishes to bring back from the dead is Tatia, and Ayanna was involved, the blood of the Doppelganger must be used in the spell. This creates an ultimatum for Klaus: continue to build his army of hybrids, or bring back the woman that both he and his brother fought over (Elena guesses that he finally listened to Caroline saying 'no' enough to understand she meant it).

She didn't know these things before; she does once Elijah describes it to them. You don't have to be a witch to realize just how much magic must be channeled for something like this; the pair involved will most likely die.

"And so you want me to hand over my daughter _and_ my partner?" Bree asks, incredulous, and Elena pushes Mags into a seat because she's afraid the girl is going to collapse, otherwise. The older witch crosses her arms, defensively. "I know you don't know me, but that is the _last _thing I will ever do."

"My desire is not to aid my brother in his plan, but to prevent it from reaching completion," Elijah responds, so eerily calm Elena holds her breath. She cannot fathom that he wants Klaus continuing to breed hybrids, and if he doesn't want to resurrect Tatia, then what could he possibly want? Family will always come first, so he can't...

He's planning on killing his brother.

No wonder he seems so disquieted.

The vampire casually withdraws a small book from the pocket of his coat, and holds it up and open for the women to see. "A few centuries ago, in preparation for the birth of the next Doppelganger, he sought out a translation of the spell. This small grimoire contains that translation, as well as my brother's notes from a Bennett witch he consulted at the time. It appears that for this spell to work, he will have to be made vulnerable, made mortal, to remove the bone."

"Klaus has grown far too reckless, and all of my previous attempts to dissuade him from his violent behavior have been unsuccessful. He kills, he maims, he tortures, and all with no remorse," Elijah gravely explains. "He has left me with no choice."

He closes the book, places it on the table, and pushes it towards them. "What I am asking for is your cooperation: initiate the spell, but only to the point in which my brother is rendered mortal. In exchange, I will ensure that no harm comes to either your daughter or your partner."

There is the noise of a chair's legs scraping on the dirty bar floor, and the table wobbles as Maggie pushes down on it as she stands.

"My name is Margaret."

Bree reaches over and takes her daughter's hand. "Baby," she starts to say gently, but is cut off.

"_No_, no, Mama, don't. I know you and Mom have been trying to protect me but this is...if this guy, this vampire is as bad as you say he is, and he's got her, we need to do something." For the second time since Elena had come to know Maggie, the expression of equal parts determination and fear flits across her features. She knows what it's like; she's felt like this. "I'll do it," the youngest woman says, and extends her hand.

Elijah shakes her offered hand, and rises smoothly from his seat. "The sooner we leave the better. I will have a vehicle sent to your home tomorrow morning to pick you and your belongings up, Margaret."

Like a ventriloquists dummy, like she's been compelled, Elena's lips move. "I'm going with her." She is just as surprised as everyone else that she's said those words out loud. She's purposely kept silent for the duration of the negotiations.

"I am, too," adds Bree.

The vampire dips his head slowly, in acknowledgment. "Of course," he responds, and he places a note of apology in the words. Elena feels a little hope that maybe he _hasn't_ identified her, but quickly realizes that he will, if he hasn't already, if they are going to be spending more than just a few hours together. "The vehicle will be sent to your home for six, tomorrow morning. I will ensure you are kept safe until that time."

And with that, he says his goodbyes, thanks them for their time, and briskly leaves the bar.

In the staggering silence that follows, Maggie slumps back into the chair and stares blankly ahead of her. Bree puts an arm around her shoulders and presses a kiss to the top of her head.

"Can we trust him?" Maggie's mother asks Elena lowly.

"As long as we're all working towards the same goal, yes. It seems like he's sincere in hoping to stop his brother. Lucy will be okay, Bree. Elijah is an honorable man; once he gives his word he will stop at nothing to keep it."

That estimation leaves out so much, but she cannot delve into her past with him, not without betraying the trust between the two of them, she feels.

"I know she will. She's tough, that's why I love her," responds Bree with a wry smile. "And we talked about what we would do if this were to happen. It's been something we've known was a possibility for a very long time."

"What?" Maggie leans back to look up at her mother. "What do you mean?"

She sighs, and runs a hand down her daughter's hair, a grim expression taking over her features. "Mom and I realized how special you were when you were little, Baby. We made Aimee promise to protect you, but we also made a promise to each other: should something happen to one of us, we put you first."

"But Mom is-"

"-We are going to do _everything _we can to get her back, but we can't have anything happen to you."

Maggie is horrified, but Bree repeats that this is what she promised Lucy, and the girl nods, reluctantly accepting the situation. Elena knows what it's like, to feel that heaviness on your shoulders, to feel as if you are holding someone's life in your hands, and you never asked for it. To know it seems incredibly ungrateful if you go against that person's wishes.

The ride home is quiet and uneventful, but Elena rides with a crossbow on her lap in Bree's SUV.

"Aimee," Maggie says so softly that she almost doesn't hear her. Elena cranes her neck around to see the passenger in the backseat. "I need you to tell me the truth. We're...we're friends, right?"

"Of course," she answers instantly, no hesitation, and this seems to relieve Maggie a little.

"I'm not a burden, am I?"

"Please don't ever think that, Maggie. I know this is hard for you; I can only imagine what you're thinking right now, but I promise, everything is going to be okay."

Maggie's room is beautiful, and features a large, single plate window that looks out on the side of the house. Usually this would be a plus, but tonight it's a hazard. Bree and Elena make the decision while driving that for tonight, the safest place to sleep is the finished room in the basement, where they keep the vervain. The window in that room is miniscule, and hidden in shrubbery

Elijah is standing in the driveway, clothing dark and demeanor serious. "I wanted to ensure that you made it into your home safely," he explains.

The trio of women quickly enter the house. Once inside, Bree requests that Maggie help her collect the pillows and blankets to take to the basement, while Elena seals the home for the night.

The spell is an easy one, or at least the Petrova Fire allows it to be. It requires a short incantation while circling the house and creating a line of salt and certain herbs. Lucy had come up with brilliant plan to actually mix the salt and herbs that was needed into the exterior paint; it cut down time and made the process tactically safer. Now, they simply need to draw fresh connecting lines at the windows and doors.

Elena knows he is still out there. As she goes about her work, she catches sight of him keeping pace with her outside. At first there is a fluttering feeling in the pit of her stomach, knowing that when she gets to the front door, she'll have to open it, allowing for them to have a conversation. But soon anxiousness is abated by his presence; when Elijah is around she always feels more calm, more herself. Her sense of purpose is inspired by his, her thoughts become crystal clear.

She's worried sick about Lucy, and the future that is slowly unfolding, but being on the same side as Elijah on this could be beneficial to everyone's chances of walking away from this intact.

And so when she opens the front door, Elijah stands on the other side, calm and collected, as always, utterly out of place when one considers the chaos that is starting to take place.

Her heartbeat is already wild, so if he hears it (she knows he hears it), he might chalk it up to surprise.

"Forgive me," he requests. "I did not mean to startle you."

Elijah is searching for something in her gaze, something to confirm what he suspects, she thinks; there's no attempt to compel her, but she forces herself to look down to the floor, murmuring an apology as she stoops to start drawing the line with the mixture.

She _needs_ to be a stranger to him. Anonymity is crucial for this to work; her status as the Doppelganger is the card up her sleeve, and she has to keep that knowledge as scarce as possible. Reveal it and Klaus would escalate his violence.

"Elena."

It is not a knee-jerk reaction to hearing her name that causes her to bring her head up, to look up at him. It is an involuntary response to the soft, unsure but beseeching note in his voice.

Time stops. She stops breathing. He draws in air through parted lips. Her plans crumble.

She brings her finger to her lips as quickly as she can while she stands, then points behind her. Elena feels herself begging his silence with every molecule of her body, knowing that both inside and possibly outside, there are people who _cannot_ know.

And suddenly, it is as if they are reenacting those first few moments in the Salvatore Mansion after she pulled the dagger from his chest. In an effort to draw closer to talk to her, Elijah leans against the doorway with an arm on each side, as close as the barrier will allow him to without an invitation into their home.

He takes in the glamor, surveying her differently now, looks to the contents of her cupped hand and a small smile forms on his lips.

"I feel there is quite a lot we will have to discuss, when we catch up."

"If there's time," she concedes.

"There will be time," he answers, shifting slightly, appearing to relax. The vampire looks out over their yard. "There will be a flight and a bit of a drive. Tomorrow I intend to gain a slight advantage over my brother with something I've kept hidden." His glance has taken a path that ends with Elena, and he smiles again, ducking his head as he does. "Although I did not count on _this_, I assure you."

Elijah's smiles, Elena discovers, are infectious, and one presses itself upward and into existence on her own mouth. "That was sort of the plan." She leans against the door frame with her shoulder, since it feels suddenly just a little bit lighter.

They are separated by a little magic, and only a few inches, and as if he is of the same mind, Elijah studies the small amount of space between them for a moment before speaking again.

"Given the manner in which I had left," he says, delicately choosing each word with care that shows in a crease between his brows, "I did not expect our next meeting to transpire in this manner, if there was to be any at all. You always find some way of surprising me." Elijah straightens, his face seeming to close off. "You have three seconds to be doing what you are supposed to be doing," he warns.

Bree appears and finds Elena on her haunches at the tread of the empty doorway, pouring the salt and herbs along the opening. The witch waits until the girl finishes to talk.

"Maggie and I tried a locator spell. No luck. Klaus must have at least one other witch working for him. Lucy would have given us some sort of sign by now, otherwise." She's lost in thought for a moment, but then seems to shake herself out of it. "Finish up and meet us downstairs, okay?"

"Be right there," Elena replies, and as soon as she hears the basement door shut, she turns back around. "Thank you," she says, keeping her voice down.

Elijah appears once more in the doorway after a blur of movement. "You ought to join them."

She pats her hands on her jeans to brush off excess from the salt mixture. "Guess this is goodnight, then." She's reluctant to end their conversation; there is so much they _need_ to talk about, things she's never been able to get out of her mind, topics that have surfaced late at night when she cannot sleep.

But now is not the time.

"Goodnight...Aimee." It's playful and serious all at the same time, and Elena starts to close the door, but stops.

Not hearing the sound of the door shutting, Elijah turns back around to face her.

"How did you know?" she says, the question bursting from her lips, curiosity unable to be quashed. "In the bar, how did you know it was me?"

The vampire hesitates in answering for a moment. "Your eyes," he finally says.

Elena frowns. "They're blue. And rounder. It wasn't my heartbeat?"

Elijah's expression is indiscernible as he speaks again. "No, that seems different to me. It was your eyes: when I looked into your eyes, I knew." Never before has she seen such an elegant, discrete shrug; it's not careless he is at a loss for words and frustrated by it. Shock silences her, and when she cannot respond, he slips his hands into his pockets and takes a step back. "Until tomorrow," he bids, and is gone.

Reflecting on his words, Elena closes and locks the door on autopilot. She descends into the basement and slips into her sleeping bag, but finds that her thoughts keep her awake for some time.

His letter is in her dresser drawer upstairs, but it's at the forefront of her mind until her heavy eyelids finally close for the night.


	5. Crossed Over the Line

**A/N: Thank you for all of the kind reviews! I'm glad you're enjoying the fic, even though it didn't meet its initial deadline. :)**

**And 'Hi' to honorableoriginal over on tumblr - sorry this is so late!  
><strong>

**Chapter title comes from "Give" by Tori Amos.**

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><p><strong>E<strong>lena's not sure what wakes her first: the sound of movement, or the sudden, white-hot burn underneath her skin. Regardless of which one comes first, her hand moves under her pillowcase to the stake as she sits up, but realizes who is missing and that it won't be needed.

She _wouldn't_...would she?

The door to the basement is slowly being opened, and Elena is taking the stairs two at a time. Her feet barely touch the first floor of the house before she's launching herself at Maggie, grabbing her around the midsection in an awkward tackle.

"No!" the younger girl grunts as they land in a tangle on the floor.

"Don't do this, Maggie!" Elena continues to wrestle with her as her friend tries to crawl towards the front door. Bree stomps up the stairs behind them.

"What the hell is going on?" she demands.

"Let me go!" Maggie shouts, verging on hysterical. "Please let me go, just let me go and I'll go to Klaus, and he'll let my Mom go. Please, Aim, you don't understand."

Yeah, she can't relate _at all_.

Elena, arms wrapped around Maggie in attempt to keep her from squirming towards the door, lets out a frustrated growl and manages to turn Maggie around, so Bree can help subdue her. She staggers backward until her back is pressed to the door.

"Margaret LaForte," Bree grits out warningly while strong-arming her daughter into a chair in the living room. "You stop it this instant."

Elena, now catching her breath, looks around to see that the lights are flickering, and she knows it's only a manner of time until things start flying and someone gets hurt. Maggie usually has her magic under an incredible amount of control, but this has happened on occasion.

She makes her way over to the LaFortes.

"When I start, you just repeat it with me, okay?" Bree says, purposely vague as to not alert her daughter about what they are about to do.

Together, Bree and Elena chant an incantation that causes the girl to fall into a deep sleep; it's protective, in a way, so the Petrova Fire allows her help and it works quickly. Maggie will be out for hours.

Bree, out of breath, steps back from her daughter and runs both her hands through her hair as she seats herself on the sofa. Elena tries to steady her breathing as she falls onto the cushions beside her.

"Will she be alright?"

Both women whip their heads around to face the foyer to find Elijah pushing himself as close to the threshold of the barrier as possible. In the next instant, they both realize that the door has been knocked in off of its hinges.

"I saw the lights and..." he trails off, and looks down at the door. Elena raises an accusing eyebrow. "I will pay to have that repaired, I assure you," he adds quickly.

"Damn right you will," grouses Bree. "I'll go get the tools."

"I could have someone here to repair this within the hour," promises the vampire, shifting impatiently from one foot to the other. He wants to be invited in, she knows, but it's not her place to do such a thing.

Somewhere upstairs, her alarm clock goes off: six o' clock. They were going to leave at seven. Over Elijah's shoulder, she can see that dawn is starting to dimly light up the wooded neighborhood.

"Bree, it's time to pack, anyway." After a second glance at the doorway (and her friend – is he still her friend? She hopes she can still consider him a friend – standing there), Elena reminds her "Hybrids could get in, invitation or not, though I think we'd be protected from anyone trying to wish us harm." She shrugs. "It couldn't hurt."

Bree thinks that this could be a test to see if Elijah is truly trustworthy; she also made a comment about wondering just how well Elena 'knew' Elijah. "Fine," she sighs. "Elijah Mikaelson, you are invited into my home, God help me."

His step into the house is a smooth one, demonstrating that the Fire has found no reason to prevent him from getting in...not that he knows that part.

"Thank you, Miss LaForte. And once more, may I apologize for-"

His contrition is waved off. "Save it, honey, " the bartender says, bold as brass and more than slightly irked. "If you come through with your promise, I'll let you replace the whole damn house if you want. The garage door hasn't worked in years, in case your repairman is bored and wants something else to do. Aimee, help me get Maggie upstairs to her bed; at least while we pack, we can keep an eye on her."

Elijah offers to help carry the slight girl upstairs, but Bree refuses his help, insisting upon doing it with Elena's help. They get her into the bed and all but burrito her in the blankets; it will take her some time to struggle out of the mess, giving them time to get to her should she try to run again.

If Bree sees Elijah follow Elena into her room while she packs, she makes no comment. As a sign of good faith, Elena keeps the door open.

Her bedroom here is very similar to her room back home, but lacking in personal mementos: soft colors and floral prints - they're all generic signs of a young woman inhabiting this space. Truth be told, Elena hasn't given much thought to personalizing the room. There are a few photos of their handful of friends from school, but they haven't been placed in specific locations, like her frames in Mystic Falls. Those had been carefully deposited so she could see most of them from her bed.

The last time that Elijah was in her personal space, he had considered her a tool, a means of his brother's destruction. He had walked around the room and inspected her belongings as though she deserved no privacy or consideration. This time, he seems to hover by the door until she gestures to her desk chair (thankful she had retrieved the bra from the back of the seat this morning to put back in its drawer).

She remembers to crack a window when she sees his eyes look irritated; the vervain in the basement ends up making the whole house smell, and she can only imagine what that could do to a vampire.

"Still not the proper time or place, I suspect," he says regretfully, "for that conversation."

Elena shakes her head. "No, no it's not." She wants to tell him so much, but has to focus on Lucy. When this is all over, maybe there will be a little time...

"Does that happen often, those electrical issues?" he asks conversationally as she pulls her dusty suitcase out of the closet. It hasn't been used since she moved in two years ago. Hidden beneath the lining of the suitcase are her photographs and keepsakes from Mystic Falls, and she decides to keep them in there.

"It's only happened maybe once or twice, since I met her," she answers pointedly, while making hasty work of throwing clothing into the bag. "I think it was just stress getting the better of her...she was trying to go find Klaus and I caught her."

What had Maggie been thinking, trying to sneak away like that? Elena pushes down on the clothing in the bag with a little more gusto than necessary. Couldn't Maggie see what Bree, Lucy, and herself were willing to do to keep her safe? Didn't she understand how important she was to her parents, and to her friend? And she knew Maggie well enough to know that she hadn't thought that going to Klaus was some sort of noble choice, or tactically the best, she had probably considered it to be the only way to keep them all-

Elena stops zipping the bag and looks over to him. Elijah's face remains passive, but there is a definite twinkle of humor in his deep brown eyes, and the ghost of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

"You've come to realize who she reminds you of, I take it," he intones.

"It's a bit like looking in a mirror," she admits. A quick glance confirms that the crease at the corner of his mouth pulls a little more.

Shaking her head, she bends down and grabs at the duffel from its place below her bed. It still has most of the same equipment in it from two years ago, but lugging it places isn't as hard, now that she's built up stamina. The few times she's allowed her glamor to drop (it's a spell she can keep up herself, these days, one that both Lucy and Bree have tested and found to be sturdy), she's found her body to be leaner, stronger...a little more hardened. It's satisfying to see the faintest of smile lines forming, and these change to her body, because it means Elena Gilbert no longer looks exactly like Katherine Pierce.

Elijah's eyebrows rise at the sight of the open duffel. "You're a vampire hunter _and_ a witch now? We really do have much to discuss."

Bree calls for Elena's help, and in the instant her back is to him, Elijah takes both bags and exits the room. She says her thanks to the empty room, knowing he'll hear it.

Together, the women wake Maggie, and warn her off from any further attempts to bolt. They've all agreed on a plan and have to stick to it, they rationalize with her, or things could get a lot worse.

Elena scoops up Maggie's bag (packed by Bree, she realizes - meaning she probably overheard their entire conversation through the open bathroom doors) and Bree's and heads down. The hired SUV's driver looks like a high-class SWAT member, and he relieves Elena of the two bags.

Elijah takes the seat next to Bree and spends the car ride discussing plans with her. Maggie is all apologies, and Elena spends most of the ride reassuring the girl she's forgiven, that of course they're still friends. The ride to the airport seems to never end, but finally they pass the main entrance.

Instead, they travel another mile or two along the airport's property line until they reach a second, smaller gate. The driver hands the security guard identification, and after some verification with a computer system as well as a radio request for the gate to be opened, they drive through.

There's a badly paved road they follow that takes them to an aircraft hanger, where a private jet sits waiting, no doubt, for their departure. A handful of people are all walking around intent on finishing preparations; the only exception are a pair of individuals who are standing at the stairs to the jet, and Elena's stomach drops as they approach and she sees who those people are.

Caroline and Bonnie.


	6. All Is Melting Like the Snow

Chapter title from 'On Powdered Ground' by Agnes Obel

For anyone interested, I'm over on tumblr: has-far-to-go dot tumblr dot com. :)

As always, thank you for the reviews!

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><p><strong>C<strong>aroline and Bonnie are standing directly at the bottom of the stairs, impeding the path of anyone who wishes to board the plane. They both wear their defiance in their own distinct ways, but it's unified.

Their vehicle slows to a stop. "Sir?" The driver's hand starts to slide underneath the lapel of his jacket but Elijah leans forward and tells him to stop.

"No, they are acquaintances," he explains, and as he settles back in his seat, he looks to Elena out of the corner of his eye. "Unexpected acquaintances, but allies, none the less. Please collect our luggage while I speak with them."

The vehicles stops, and the driver promptly sets about his work after opening the doors on the other side of SUV. Aside from Elijah, the passengers, legs stiff from the drive, are a little slower in exiting the vehicle.

Elijah, ever the gentleman, helps them down. Elena is the last to get out, and he sways slightly to stand before her, asking her with his frame to stand still without caging her.

"Please accept my apology – another one," he says so quietly that she can barely hear him, but the self deprecation is evident in the shape of his mouth and the way he holds himself. "I had no way of knowing."

She nods, briskly, closing her eyes as she does so. The surprise on his face before was genuine. "I know."

"I will handle this," he promises, taking a step back, and proceeds to walk around the vehicle to greet the unanticipated witch and vampire.

"Ladies," he acknowledges, but before he can continue, Caroline cuts him off.

"Is she here or not, Elijah?"

"We just wanted to see her," interjects Bonnie apologetically, trying to soothe the gruff demands of the blond young woman next to her. "We haven't seen her in two years and-"

"-And your sister said you'd both probably be together."

Bonnie glares at Caroline for a moment before hoisting the bag on her shoulder. "We just wanted to know if she was okay. No word from her in two years, and what with your brother's plans-"

"I tipped you off, you know," Caroline interrupts once more, on a mission and hell-bent to see it to its end. "You at least owe us an answer."

Elena holds her breath, frozen in her spot next to Bree and Maggie; their trip has gone unnoticed until now.

Elijah evenly replies "Do you see her here?"

"No," responds Caroline, suddenly aware. "No, I don't." Her shoulders sag, and Elena's chest hurt when she sees the hurt in her friend's eyes.

Bonnie is quick to mollify the situation. "We're really sorry for bothering you, Elijah...and for tracking you, and for compelling your guards to let us in, but if this concerns Elena, it concerns us."

"Please correct me if I am wrong, Miss Bennett," Elijah says dryly, and beside Elena, Maggie perks up, her curiosity increased, "but I do believe that Caroline explained to me on the phone that you were all given letters from Elena stating that she left to keep you _out_ of danger."

"She's our friend, our best friend, and we love her too much to let this happen." Bonnie's chin rises slightly as she starts to stand her ground. "Besides, you'll need a witch, and we-"

Elijah gestures to the three women behind him. "I appreciate the offer, but that is already taken care of."

Bonnie stares at them, and seems to zero in on Elena. She swears she's going to puke by the time this is over.

Why can't they just leave? As much as she's missed them (missed them all so much it's _hurt_) this was_ exactly_ the sort of thing she was trying to avoid when she left.

"We want to help you, if it means helping Elena," Caroline insists.

"She's family to us...surely you understand that?"

His wince is so quick it appears like a twitch of his brow, but Elena sees it. Bonnie has just played the card that will have him agreeing to their requests.

"You're a Bennett?" Maggie speaks up. She's been slightly lethargic since they roused her; a side-effect that's left Elena feeling more than a little guilty. Now, however, she's wide awake, and keen to find out more about the two newcomers.

Bonnie nods. "I'm Bonnie Bennett."

Maggie's face brightens. "Really? My Mom is Lucy Bennett." And then the moment of happiness dissipates. "He's got her, that Klaus guy. That's why I agreed to help."

Bonnie immediately looks frightened, but the look dissolves into determination. Elijah looks more than slightly displeased with where this is going, but before Elena can try to say anything, Caroline finds her voice again.

"Oh, see now? Now, this is family business, and since this concerns both Bonnie _and_ Elena, we have to come."

Half an hour later they're all sitting on various chairs and sofas in the jet and airborne. The five women are all seated on sofas facing one another at the back of the cabin, and the younger ones are introducing themselves. Elijah is somewhere in the front, where there is an entertainment center behind soundproofing curtain; he's watching the news in a foreign language.

It's obvious that Bonnie and Caroline are closer, now. There were times when they were younger, when Elena had to force them to sit down and discuss whatever it was they were squabbling over...Barbies, boys, bands...it seemed they were the most important topics in the world, then.

Abby's transition was difficult, and even back when Elena left, she could see that Caroline was trying to be supportive, to be a friend in the truest sense. It was through the bubbly blond's help alone that Abby maintained her humanity, learned to deal with the hunger for blood. With control now possible, she had been given time with her daughter once more, to finally try to piece their relationship back together. To make up for lost time.

From Facebook, and the messages left for her, Elena knew that Bonnie and Caroline are enrolled in different colleges, but try to get together with Matt and Stefan and a few other people on the weekends. Normal things people do, trying to keep up friendships started in high school.

"So," Caroline says slowly, starting to frown slightly, and beside her, Bonnie stiffens just as Elena steels herself for some ridiculously personal question, Caroline-style. "You're not a Bennett, are you? I mean you don't _look-_"

Bonnie's eyes widen and she shakes her head frantically.

"It's okay," Elena says. "No, I'm not a Bennett," she affirms, and after a sideways glance at the person beside her on the couch, continues. "But I'm Maggie's best friend, and Lucy and Bree are like parents to me, so I guess that I'm here for the same reasons you are, Caroline."

"You're a witch," Bonnie says suddenly, surprised. "I can feel your magic, but you're not..."

Caroline elbows her in the side. "Now look who's being rude."

Exasperated, Bonnie sighs but finishes speaking. "That's not what I meant, _at all_. I just mean," she squints, and cocks her head. "You've got magic, it's definitely there, but it's not...it _feels_ different."

"Aimee's magic is a little different," Maggie offers, taking over for her friend.

"My abilities are really, really limited," Elena adds with a shrug.

The subtle movement of Bree's head lifting from her grimoire (she's held onto her family's copy, and even from the other side of the sofa, its musty odor can be detected) catches her eye, and she witnesses Bree's wary, watchful glance; it's protective, and Elena is very touched to see her concern.

At the same moment she goes to respond with an appreciative smile, she feels it. There's a little niggling tendril of someone else's magic, and it's strong. It tries to push at her glamor and see what lies behind-

Elena reacts without thinking. "Get out of my head!" she yelps, rising from the sofa.

Shocked, Bonnie looks up at her. "I didn't-I was only trying to-"

"You can't just pry like that, curiosity or not, that's just...please, don't do that."

"I'm sorry," the embarrassed witch says, and means it. "Other witches don't normally feel it when I do that."

Elijah's hand comes to rest for only a second at the small of Elena's back before he starts to speak, but it's enough to keep her from jumping when he's suddenly that close and speaking. "Perhaps, Miss Bennett, you should focus your energy on acquainting yourself with your cousin. From previous experience, I've found that having pre-existent knowledge of your partners in magic can help strengthen your work, and you will need it." He gestures towards the front of the cabin graciously. "Miss Hawkins, a word please."

She travels the distance between the sofas in the back, through the curtains to the entertainment center in the front and sets herself in one of the leather captain chairs facing the televisions, allowing herself to sink into the seat and take a deep breath with her eyes closed.

"Are you alright?" he asks lowly, now seated next to her. He's angled his seat towards hers.

"That's never happened before," she responds, upset with how shaken her own voice sounds. "That didn't even feel like it was me talking, it was like being compelled."

He tilts his head slightly, a silent prompt for her to elaborate, but she shakes her head. "This isn't the place..._still_."

The noise on the television gets louder during a commercial, and it draws her attention to the screen.

"It's a Bulgarian news program," he explains. "Trying to see if Klaus has beat us there; bizarre animal attacks, tragic mass accidents...over the years I have been able to pick up on the signs of his presence, and they have only escalated since the Sun and Moon Curse was broken." The dark tone to his voice speaks volumes.

She instinctively reaches for his hand where it sits on the plush armrest, but falters when she reconsiders and thinks that it's perhaps too forward of a gesture.

"I'm sorry," she mouths. Despite the soundproofing curtains, Caroline can probably hear their conversation and they'll have no idea who Aimee Hawkins is to Elijah Mikaelson. The less they know, the better.

"Hopefully, I've taken action this time soon enough to give us the advantage; he'll be using a witch – not Lucy, Lucy will be treated with kid gloves until the actual Resurrection – to search for Tatia's remains in Mystic Falls."

"They're not there?"

He shakes his head. "I had them removed centuries ago. All that is left is dust, but they will suffice for his purposes. When my brother finds evidence that someone has removed her remains, as well as made off with the second necessary Bennett, he will immediately assume that I have played a part. While giving him what he wants in this situation sound like a way to quiet him, it will only lead to him bringing back others, and there aren't enough witches in existence to help with all that he wants."

And Elijah will also have the Doppelganger with him, but there are only four people in existence who know that, and she's going to keep it that way until that last possible second.

"It's like a chess game," Elena huffs.

"The analogy is not entirely incorrect." He brings his hands together, steepled, as he watches the screen, reading the ticker tape on the bottom with its scrolling news breaks in Bulgarian. "And I am fully prepared to play."

Elena pulls her legs up and tucks them underneath her. "I never learned," she says after a moment where the silence stretches out. It's not an impulsive thing to say, to fill the quiet between them; she feels comfortable enough in his presence to speak whatever comes to mind.

Klaus is going to be looking for her. She's sort of let that part of the situation slide until now, but now it's starting to hit her full force and while she's been focusing on Maggie, with the sudden appearance of her two friends it's starting to creep up on her. There it is in her gut: an old, familiar feeling of fear.

No matter what she's told everyone, she is still afraid of dying, of death. It is a fear that is marrow-deep, an icy cold thing she hates to feel and hasn't for some time. It's back with horrific familiarity.

"I'll teach you" is his easy reply, muffled slightly by his fingers on his lips. "When this is all behind us."

She wants to be there for that. Truly, she does. But between her promise to Bree and Lucy, and Klaus requiring her blood, she's not sure if she'll be there for that.

The smile she gives him his a little bittersweet; she makes no efforts to hide what she's feeling. "I'd like that."

They both turn their attention back to the television screen, but their silence is companionable.


	7. Weaker Than the Palest Blue

Chapter title from Nick Drake's "A Place to Be"

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><p><strong>E<strong>veryone is thinking about it, but no one is saying it. It's the elephant in the room – well, vehicle – and it's clearly, plainly there, but everyone has far too much tact to make a comment to Elijah.

Except for Caroline.

"So," she draws the word out, eyes glued to the building they are approaching rapidly via a back dirt road. "You're like really_, really_ rich, aren't you? I bet you make the Salvatore's bank account look like spare change."

"Care, really?" Bonnie groans.

"What? We are driving to a _castle_, and the security check at the front of this property was miles behind us...Elijah," she suddenly addresses the man in the passenger seat next to the driver, "I didn't mean to insult you or say anything rude, but I was just realizing how much money can be made just by not dying. I mean, I've been able to pocket a little extra thanks to a decrease in beauty products and gas mileage; if you even had like,_ a penny_ or whatever the equivalent was from when you were a human, you'd be a billionaire."

"I regret to inform you that this property is in fact a manor. However, yes, immortality does have its financial benefits," he concedes. "With time and careful planning, I can imagine you will see this is the case for you."

"That means not splurging on Modcloth purchases," intones Bonnie, and Elena has to keep herself from laughing.

The dirt road has been keeping parallel to a river that curls around the edge of the fortified manor they are approaching, but the path suddenly veers, angling towards the opposite side of the tall stone fences, and to an intricate but sturdy looking pair of gates. Above the ironwork atop the fencing, an austere and sprawling building of age-darkened red brick and lead-paned windows pushes upward. To the side of the two-story stone fence, and edging the river where it wraps around the property, is a sprawling, breath-taking garden, dusted in snow.

It looks like it belongs in the English countryside rather than Bulgaria (Yes, Bulgaria. The panic over being in the country illegally is still alive and well in anyone who isn't a vampire).

"Shit," compliments Bree.

Beside Elena, Maggie drops her head into her hands. Truth be told, Elena feels some parental embarrassment as well.

"Madresfield Court's design was inspired heavily by this home, " explains (it's totally boasting, Elena know, just done in a classy manner) Elijah. "Inversely, Pulham and Son's work there inspired the gardens here."

"Gardens as in plural?" Elena can _hear_ Caroline's eyebrows shoot upward.

Soon enough they pull up to the gate and Elijah rolls down his window, and the older man who hurries out speaks rapidly in what Elena assumes is Bulgarian, and she hears the blond vampire's name mentioned. The gatekeeper pokes his head in, and those in the backseat tense in a synchronized gesture of apprehensions. While she cannot understand the man, his warm, good natured tone carries over. He repeats himself in English, at Elijah's softly worded request: an invitation into the home.

"The home proper carries to the gate itself; an invitation is required...another line of security," explains Elijah. "The family living here have been in my employ for countless generations; they are paid handsomely and understand the discretion I desire. They also drink vervain routinely, and have access to a continuing supply should any of you require."

It turns out most of the Krall family speaks English, and they are all broad smiles and hospitality as they help the group into the house. In short order they are whisked away to bedrooms in the East Wing (Caroline's remark was "See? I told you, it's a castle!" upon hearing this), a section of the home that is kept prepared at all times for Elijah and his guests.

Bree shoulders quickly past Elena and Maggie declaring "Uh, no," in a tone that brooks no argument, and drops her bag of supplies down onto the second bed in the room with a declarative thump. Bree's other suitcase is sitting on the embroidered duvet already delivered. "I asked Elijah to make this a mother-daughter room, since you're a flight risk. Aimee might have had surprise on her side back at the house- "

(Or magic. The Petrova Fire seems to be able to transform a scrawny girl into a linebacker when needed.)

"-but I've got eyes in the back of my head when it comes to you, Margaret Emily LaForte."

Maggie's eyes are as wide as saucers.

And with that Elena retreats from the room because it looks like her friend is in for one of those 'These Are The Rules' sort of talks, and makes for the open door beside the LaForte's accommodations. She's more than surprised to find Bree following, determined, in her wake.

"Coming to see your room," the older woman says, too brightly to be honest. She closes the door and launches into the questions before Elena can even look around.

"What is _really_ going on between you two?"

Playing dumb will only aggravate Bree, so she takes a deep breath and lets it out. "I've told you everything, Bree: Elijah initially wanted my help to kill Klaus and we came to an agreement. Since then, we've continued to work together when the situation calls for it...but there's been times we've both done things we're not proud of to the other. The last time around resulted in both of us risking the other's life to try to protect our families. It's...it's complicated, but I consider him a friend, I guess?"

Bree hold her gaze, steady. "Is that really all?"

"Yes!" she responds, exasperated.

"Because the two of you are giving off...'vibes'." Elena echoes this phrase back blandly and Bree nods. "Yes, 'vibes'. I'm not Lucy or Bonnie or Mags; I call them 'vibes' and I'm seeing them between you two."

The older woman crosses her arms, and looks to the floor, appearing to deliberate over whatever she is about to say. "I'm not your mother. I can't tell you what to do or not do, but...just don't let whatever is going on distract you. I know I don't need to remind you of your promise. Will this possibly prevent us from getting Lucy back?"

Elena shakes her head. "Not at all." She squares her shoulders and says the next words out loud for the first time. "I'm going to hand myself over to Klaus, please don't think I won't. I've been prepared to do that before – I went through with it before. I-I'm," at this she falters, feeling her throat close over a little as panic starts to grip, "I'm going to die, if that's what it takes."

There is genuine remorse on Bree's face. For the most part, the promise they've held her to is harmless, but it very well may kill her. Bree's done a lot of things – she _tried_ to have Damon killed – but this will be the first time (that Elena knows of, at least) where she's played a direct hand in someone's death.

Heart fluttering in her chest, stomach slightly queasy, she takes a second to collect herself before saying the next part. "But you've got to promise me you won't breathe a word of this to _anyone_, Bree. Klaus, my friends, none of them can know it's me. The last time we were in a situation like this, Klaus had a lot of back up plans, and we're going to need some of our own. No matter what happens, _nothing_ will happen to Maggie."

The witch nods her head, almost frantically, and tries to discretely wipe at the tears that are starting to spill down her cheeks. "Please know that I hope it doesn't come to that, to you dying," she says, pleads really, in a quiet voice. "You've got to know that we love you, honey."

Elena can't think of anything to say, so she steps forward and hugs Bree, who squeezes her tightly. A maternal kiss is pressed to the top of her head, and then the bartender is stepping back, clearing her throat.

"Alright, get your crap unpacked and then knock on the door between the rooms," she says, and points behind them. Elena twists around and notices the door on the wall between their rooms – the door's paneling mimics the walnut walls, and it's nearly hidden.

"Conjoined bedrooms. Feels like home." Elena's forced cheerfulness does not go unnoticed.

"That one guy, Andrei, I think? He told me the rooms are soundproofed but," Bree pauses and brandishes a large Ziplock baggie filled with sage, "just in case." Elena gives her an appreciative look and reaches for them, but Bree retracts the bag for a second. "I expect you to be drinking vervain, too. Get freaky all you want, but nothing with your blood. There's some tea bags and some vervain oil in there, too."

It's like getting condoms from your Mom. Elena feels her face burning as she takes the bag from her. "You're handling all of this really well," she observes as Bree starts to leave the room through the concealed door.

Bree turns. "We have a plan, and we have the Petrova Fire on our side," she explains, then admits: "I'm trying to handle this as best I can, but I'll probably end up breaking down at some point. If that happens, I promise, I won't let on to your secret."

"Thank you," Elena responds.

(Bree has never gone up against Klaus. She has no idea what he can do. Elena won't hold it against her if she breaks that promise.)

The door closes and Elena has a few minutes to herself as she opens her bags up and starts to unpack, and to survey her room.

It's gorgeous – every room she's seen so far has been. Thick carpet muffles the ancient, protesting floorboards underfoot, and what isn't paneled with mahogany has been painted a forest green. Beams span the ceiling, and the wood that was used to construct the massive four poster bed is only a slightly lighter shade than that of the rest of the room. The curtains on the bed are velvet, heavy stuff that's a dream to feel when she rubs her fingers over it, and the duvet is so invitingly dense she wants to crawl onto the bed immediately. A quick search discovers that there are several closets, and a bathroom that's been entirely renovated with stainless steel and cream-colored tiles hidden behind other paneled doors. The fireplace is far enough away from the bed that it's safe, but still allows the roaring fire's heat to warm a sleeper.

With little time to pack before they'd left, it doesn't take long to pull everything out and start to try to find spots for the items. She makes her way to a low chest of drawers that face the bed, and upon opening the top drawers finds her suspicions confirmed.

This is Elijah's room, judging from the letters and other momentos in the drawer (she's going to have to ask him about the faded concert ticket stubs she spied in there, if she gets a chance). She realizes that Bree and Maggie's room (which has no windows), is probably one of the safest in this wing, and that because it's attached to this bedroom, he reasoned this would be more appropriate.

Everyone gathers in the foyer for a tour of the manor, and while most of the home has seen generations of the Kralls grow up and seems downright homey, Elena can see how the East Wing was once home to Elijah, and why he would be comfortable here. There is a formal library, but his bedroom is filled with books as well. It is situated to look out over the gardens and the river. It seems quiet, peaceful even.

Dinner is served to them in the formal dining hall, and they all collect around one end of the table to have some delicious, home cooked food that Elena's unable to pronounce but definitely able to appreciate. Elijah does not join them, but shortly after she returns to her room, there's a knock on the door.

She half expects it to be Bonnie or Caroline. She's tried to play up 'Aimee''s shyness, and allowed Maggie to take the lead in trying to chat with the two young women from Mystic Falls. Caroline had shared the fact that she was a vampire back on the plane, and Maggie had looked over at her friend worriedly.

Two years of teaching a person how to stake a vampire, and they think you've got something against them. Go figure.

At one point in the conversation, she finds a chance to assure Caroline she knows that 'there are good vampires, just like there are bad humans', and things are a little less anxious. Since then, the four young women have been sharing light conversation, but things are so stressful, hidden beneath the showy hospitality Maggie is fidgety. This waiting game, holding their breath until Klaus catches on, makes them nervous.

So Elena goes to answer the door and is surprised, but relieved, to find Elijah on the other side.

"May I come in?" he asks quietly.

She steps back and allows him to step past her. "It's your room," she responds once the door is shut. She crosses to the door to the LaForte's room and locks it before using her Bic lighter to start burning sage.

"You noticed," he murmurs, looking around. Elijah looks uneasy, but takes in the room in a detached manner. "I hope you understand why this seemed the best accommodations for you three."

"Of course, and thank you," she replies, and leans against a bedpost. "So," she sighs, feeling nervous about the conversation about to take place, "we have a lot to talk about."

"Yes we do," he agrees, and Elena is glad she's leaned against the bedpost, because being the sole target of Elijah Mikaelson's attention is the sort of thing that makes you forget how to breathe. The man is older than the country she calls home, and he finds her important enough to just...focus on her.

It makes her want to be worth it.

It makes her feel like she _is_ worth it.

"But I have one request, before we start." He licks his lips, the movement is the only thing that betrays he feels some sort of hesitation. "If we are to be as open and honest as I think we both wish to be, I have one simple request."

She dips her head subtly, a small gesture to bid him to name it.

"Let me see you, Elena."


	8. You Know Me Wilder

As always: not mine.

Chapter title comes from Jonas David's 'Let Me Live' - he's over on bandcamp, check him out!

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><p><strong>H<strong>e's using that damn tone again, that quiet, beseeching one, like she has power over him and he couldn't just _make_ her do it.

She hasn't dropped the glamor in a very long time – probably a month or so. It's strong and sturdy, of course, but putting it back up takes a lot of effort, and she's always careful about it because she can't let Maggie catch her.

The doors are locked. She's pretty certain she's safe.

Sensing her discomfort, Elijah starts to say: "If that seems too selfish of a request, then-"

"-No, no I was just...it's been two years since I've looked like myself with someone else in the room," she admits with a shaky laugh, then tucks her hair behind her ears and straightens up.

Elena closes her eyes.

It's not necessary, but the pressure on her eyes when they change back to brown is uncomfortable and closing her eyes means she doesn't have to see Elijah's reaction to what she knows to be a strange sight when she drops the glamor. The process itself feels like it takes forever, but when it's over, it's only been a few seconds.

"Remarkable," he breathes, stepping forward, his gaze skimming over her.

She knows she looks just a little bit older, nothing majorly noticeable but since she rarely sees herself, she's noticed the changes. She's sure he does, too.

"I guess you'll want to hear about this," she says, and gestures to her face. "And the whole magic thing."

"I would be lying if I said that it was not one of the pressing questions that I had for you," he responds, dryly. "Please," he prompts, and gestures towards two plump chairs before the fireplace.

Now seated and incredibly cozy in a crème wingback, Elena sets about the task of explaining the last two years of her life to Elijah, who makes no comment, but nods at times as he listens. She's been deliberating on telling him about the Petrova Fire, but decides that if there is anyone she could trust with the truth of it, aside from Bree and Lucy of course, it's him.

He stares at the fire for some time once she finishes, silently contemplating this new information.

"Perhaps this Fire works differently depending on the Doppelganger," he muses out loud. "Yours would be stronger than Katherine's, as you found a witch who was knowledgeable and able to assist you, but there were too many coincidences over the years, too many times she was able to survive, to evade us..."

He turns his head to look at her, the ghost of a smile on his lips. "It seems to reflect personality, if that's the case: Katherine finds ways to protect herself, at all costs, whereas you protect the ones you love, even with your life. Perhaps I was closer to the truth than I knew when I talked of your compassion in the letter."

She's never thought of it like that before.

"Should the girl come to harm, you would, too," he states, but she knows it's a question as well.

"It's not like that time Katherine had Lucy link the two of us so I felt any pain she felt, but yes, considering that I can't stop myself from trying to help her if she's in danger, I could get hurt in the process. It's like..it's like compulsion, I guess."

He considers this, considers her, and says finally: "This thing you have done, Elena, it's utterly selfless. Some would say foolish, but they would be wrong in that quick judgment."

Self-consciously, she shrugs, because his admiration is a weighty thing and she's not sure she deserves it. "I needed to do something."

"And now? Do you regret it?"

He's watching her carefully for her answer, because when Elijah speaks, there is always more than one meaning to his words. He never forces her to step up, never even asks her, but she finds herself trying to do the same.

"No," she says, knowing her heartbeat does not jump, or falter in any way as she meets his gaze (not from lying, anyway). "Not at all."

This seems to make him happy; he shifts to bring his hand to rest on his mouth and chin, but she sees the twitch at the corner of his mouth.

"And you? Where did you go?" she asks him, trying to change subjects as easily as possible.

"A number of places," he replies. "Rebekah told me of the second white oak tree, and Kol and I spent some time together, traveling. He's better now at controlling the hunger, he's a little more reserved. I hold hope that he will continue in that manner. We found the tree, and he believes that it is destroyed."

She tilts her head slightly, and there's something pleasantly thrilling about the fact that they can both read whole conversations in one another through the most subtle of movements, voluntary or otherwise.

"We were not meant to be gods, Elena, despite what my siblings think. Kol saw to it that the tree he believed to be the white oak was set aflame, and together we took the ashes and scattered them at sea. In truth, I'd already had the white oak moved to my estate in England and planted in the gardens there."

And there it is. One of his last remaining weaknesses, a great secret, and he's revealed it to her.

"I would regret ever having to use it, but knowing that it exists gives me some comfort – forgive me, you are shivering."

Elena hasn't even noticed that she was.

Elijah rises smoothly from his chair and tends to the fire, which was starting to die out.

"Here," she offers, standing and crossing the space between them. All it takes is a few uttered words, some focus, and the fire roars once more. She can't help the sheepish grin of pride, but when she finally glances in Elijah's direction, there is a conspiring smirk on his face.

"Quite the parlor trick, Elena."

She looks back down at the flames, aware he is watching her.

"I feared that you would hate me, for what I did to you, that you would be angry at the very least," he says quietly.

Alarmed, she turns to him. "Elijah, please stop apologizing; I know why you did it. I will admit to being a little upset about what happened at the time, but I had lied to you. Lying to you was...it was horrible - dishonorable. You didn't deserve what I had set in motion."

"You felt remorse almost instantly," he replies, and suddenly she is the one receiving forgiveness. "I saw that in you the very night of the ball. And yet I let emotions get the better of me, even as I knew you thought you were protecting your family by assisting my mother."

She shakes her head. "It doesn't ever seem to work out well when we're on opposite sides," she observes.

He makes a small noise of agreement. "Perhaps this time, if we work together, we will find some success."

"No secret plans," she swears, holding her hand up in a mockery of the Boy Scout's gesture.

"And no going back on my word," Elijah promises seriously, taking her hand in his to shake it. "Klaus is my brother, but the others are my siblings as well. I will feel relief once they are free of his damning influence; I take accountability for my actions over the centuries, but I hope to find less reasons to destroy and kill once he is gone."

He squeezes her hand, forcing her to make direct eye contact with him. "I will do all that I can to ensure that neither you nor the girl come to harm, Elena. I know you are willing, but your life is not one to be wasted. However," and at this he pauses, faltering for only a second in his promise, "should it come to that, I will try to keep your friends from being injured, and they will always be under my watch."

Elena feels her body sag slightly even as her eyelids shut and she feels tears starting to sting. "Thank you," she sighs, relieved. "Thank you for understanding."

They return, albeit slightly awkwardly, to their chairs, and continue their discussion a lighter note; concerts and college courses and other things are discussed. An hour passes by in what feels like an instant, and between Elijah's smooth voice and the cozy heat, she finds herself becoming lethargic, and it doesn't go unnoticed.

"I should leave," he says (but she thinks she hears regret?). "This has been a long day for you, and you need some rest.

"Ju-just once last question," she requests, alertness returning to her slightly. "I just...I worry that – I mean, I don't mean to pry, but..." she bites her lip for a moment. "Aren't you afraid Klaus will try to use you in the ceremony?"

Elijah's lips part, as if to answer her, but he stops and suddenly looks to the fireplace. "Klaus is aware I am not a candidate for the Resurrection." He sees the confusion on her face after a quick glance at her and continues. Even as tired as she is, she knows from the tone of his voice, there is more to his words. "I no longer love Tatia as I did once."

Before she can ask him what he means by that, he is standing and re-buttoning his suit jacket. There is an urgency to his actions. "Thank you, Elena, for both your time and your truthfulness."

He extends a hand to her, which she takes as she moves to stand as well. No sooner is she upright, then he is leaning over her hand and pressing a kiss to it.

"And thank you for allowing me to see you without the glamor."

She thinks she may be nodding, but her cheeks are suddenly flushed and _his lips, _she can feel them still on the skin on the back of her hand. The feeling lingers even as she ensures her glamor is back in place and she crawls into bed, all the while knowing it's a useless cause.

How is a girl supposed to go to sleep after that?


	9. Cat's Cradle Etiquette

Chapter title from 'Tethered' by Sleeping at Last.

* * *

><p><strong>I<strong>n the morning, Elena knocks on the LaForte's door and it's Bree who lets her in.

"I'm hopping in the shower; you two be ready to head down by the time I'm out, okay?" the woman asks, towel already in hand.

While Elena can hear the attempt at keeping control in her voice, she reads a sleepless, worried night in the dark shadows underneath her eyes.

"Sure," she says, and sees that Maggie is sitting up in bed, blinking rapidly and probably about to fall back to sleep if no one intervenes.

So she sits heavily on the bed next to her, having to jump a little to be able to seat herself. "Hey," she says.

"Morn'n, Aim" Maggie mumbles. "Do you know what the plans are for today?"

Elena shrugs, trying to infuse the gesture with the sympathy she feels; sitting around feels like they're powerless. "I think we're just waiting on Klaus right now."

"This sucks," the bed-swaddled girl declares, as she draws her knees up and wraps her arms around them over the sheets. "I just want Mom back, and for all of us to go home and have this behind us."

"This will be over soon," Elena says, soothingly, because she can't say anything else, really, without lying. "Elijah says it's like chess, and you have to wait for-"

"Why didn't you tell me about him before?" Maggie suddenly demands, a little more awake and the hurt she feels displayed in scrunching eyebrows and a twist of the lips that's a frown and a bit of a pout.

Because he was part of her past (or so she thought)? Because he's important to her? Because she doesn't ever show what's closest to her, really, and somehow even bringing up a conversation regarding him had seemed to be impossible? She's shared a little, over the last two years, about some of the people she used to know (not enough, thank God, for Maggie to recognize Caroline or Bonnie for who they were based off of her descriptions, but enough that Maggie knew a little about her background), but Elijah is...

What is Elijah to her, anyway?

"I should have told you about him," she answers, shaking that line of thought. "I'm sorry Maggie. It's just that I helped him with something before and I thought it was over, and now here we are and..."

"Is he the one who taught you about vampires, all the stuff you know about them?"

She considers this. "Yeah," she half-lies, and feels nearly sick while doing so. "That's him."

"So he knew you when you were what, a teenager?"

She nods deciding vague is better than lying. "I was pretty young."

"Must be weird," Maggie muses, "seeing how he hasn't changed since you saw him last. He looks the same, right?"

"Of course he looks exactly the same, he's a vampire."

"So he's always been that hot?"

Elena hides her embarrassment by grabbing a pillow and swatting her with it. "Oh my God, Maggie, of all the times to-"

"-Oh, like you don't see it," Maggie responds, knowingly, while yanking the pillow from her. "Admit it, Aimee, the man is hot, and you definitely admire him."

It's kind of like having to breathe – the fact that Elijah is incredibly attractive is one of those things that's 100% true but never really something she's considered.

Elena shakes her head, and rolls her eyes. It's good to see Maggie smiling, even if it's at her expense, and to have her forgiveness. "Thank you," she says, seriously, and hopes it can force a change of conversation.

"Welcome," Maggie responds, then kicks the sheets off to crawl over and give her a hug as she quickly makes her way to the chest of drawers beside her bed. "Mama doesn't take that long to shower," she warns, "so go get dressed, because I'm coming over to see your room whether you're dressed or not!"

Elena dresses quickly, and Maggie comes in to marvel at the room. She launches herself at the bed and settles on top of the duvet, looking up at the ceiling. "He's totally into you, giving you this room."

So maybe Elena doesn't _need_ to check the items in her duffel of weapons; it gives her an excuse to be busy and not have to respond to the teasing by addressing her directly.

The older girl tries not to sigh, but does, as she looks around the bag. "He realized that your room was safest, and this one was connected. There's nothing preferential about it, aside from giving you the windowless room."

"Uh huh." Maggie studies the door for a moment. "Wonder why he had the rooms like this, with the door between them."

"History geek? Probably because it wasn't appropriate to just walk someone up to his room back then. Vampire or not, he's got manners."

"And that doesn't bother you? The fact that he probably, like, used the room for lady friends?"

Why would it? That was how he was able to survive before blood bags (she's totally thought about this and rationalized it to herself, then excused the line of thought as just a way to pass the time). Nerves now at their breaking point, Elena turns from the bag and gives her a long suffering look. "Maggie, just let it go, okay? It's not like that, and now is...it's not the time."

"No time like the present. _Carpe diem_, and all that," the girl responds breezily, doing a perfect impersonation of Caroline in her more lighthearted moments. The look falters and she sits up, watching her friend with a serious expression. "You always put me first, all the time. You deserve more."

Elena sits on the bed next to her. "You," she says, with finality, "are not a burden, and you're like a sister to me, okay? And Lucy means the world to me, so just...just let me do what I've promi-"

There's urgent knocking on Elena's door, followed by Caroline announcing herself. When the door is opened both Caroline and Bonnie look anxious. "It's Klaus," Caroline says. "He called Elijah."

They all adjourn in the library, a room that reminds her terribly of the Salvatore's. Elijah is standing at the fireplace, staring down contemplatively. In seeing him now, she suddenly is aware of how open he was last night during their conversation, as now he seems so guarded.

And she can see (perhaps she always has, but she's refused to acknowledge it) him for what he is, on the outside: an attractive man. His frame is muscular but slim, the angular lines of his face offset by the softness of his eyes and lips.

She chides herself for her line of thought when she finds herself studying his lips, avoids his questioning gaze, and makes a beeline for the sofa Maggie has seated herself on.

He can probably hear her blood rushing to flush her face.

"Is Lucy okay?" Bree asks hurriedly as she enters the room. Her hair is still wet from the shower, and it's obvious from the twist of her shirt that she dressed hastily. When the bartender sits between Maggie and Elena, Elena discretely tugs on the side of the clothing and fixes it.

"My brother states that he will see to it that Lucy is treated excellently until the ceremony, and warns that I must do the same with her daughter," he replies. Her arm pressed against Bree's, Elena can feel part of the woman's shaking tension relax slightly.

"Does he have Elena?" asks Bonnie, apprehensive of his answer.

Elijah shakes his head. "No, apparently, she continues to evade him..."

(By hiding right under his nose with the brother he thinks is helping him.)

"...He has also discovered that another part of the ceremony is missing, and suspects that I have it – Tatia's bones."

Maggie scrunches her nose slightly and looks around, as if she'll find them in the room.

"They are being safely kept until I have need for them," Elijah assures them. "However, my brother's paranoia knows no equal; if our plan is to work, he must be convinced that I am aiding him."

"So we can't screw this up." Caroline does a very good impression of Damon, crossing her arms and settling back on the loveseat.

"Although they would not have been my choice of words, yes," he replies. "However, I cannot help but advise my brother should remain ignorant of your presence, Caroline. And you, Bonnie; he expressed great frustration over his inability to kidnap you."

Bonnie raises her hand as if she's in class. "For the record, I'd like to point out that it wasn't even my magic that kept that hybrid out of my dorm building. It was like there was some sort of bubble around me, or something, but I wasn't consciously causing it. Not that I would have gone with him otherwise," she adds quickly.

"Okay, so what, we just bum out here?" asks Caroline. "Isn't that what we're already doing?"

Elijah moves from the fireplace to lean against an armchair that faces the group. "My brother has requested a face-to-face meeting, for numerous reasons. Foremost is his desire to ensure I truly have Miss LaForte in my custody, and if that is the case, to see I am treating her properly. While her presence is required-"

"-_And_ ours," interjects Bree firmly, pointing between herself and Elena, even as the younger woman's mouth automatically opens to demand her inclusion.

Elijah dips his head. "-Of course. These three ladies must accompany me, but I will request that you stay here at the manor."

Bonnie's expression deflates a little, but she reluctantly agrees, Caroline echoing similar sentiments.

They all disperse and agree to meet back in the foyer in an hour. Until then, Elena prepares, trying to find as many ways to conceal a stake in the back of her jeans, and wraps, gingerly, a vervain grenade in her bag.

That is, until Elijah stops by. She looks up from the spread of weapons on her bed to acknowledge him in her doorway, but goes back to her work, knowing he understands her invitation to enter. She hears him close the door but continues to focus on the items on the bed.

She wants to be armed to the teeth. She wants to be ferocious. Elena can't – Klaus holds too much over her head, but 'Aimee' is a new unknown to him, and he holds, to his knowledge, no collateral against her.

There hasn't been a single time that she's gone up against him successfully. It hurts but she has to be honest: she's run from him like Katherine did. Even that can't be considered a victory, however small, because she still has had to spent time at regular intervals finding people to bribe at blood banks to draw her blood so she can send it, on ice, to the Original.

"He will have all of us searched before we go in," he says, apologetic, as he approaches the bed.

With a sigh, Elena stops and gives him a disparaging look. "Any suggestions then?"

He studies the layout on her bed for a moment, then holds up one of the vials of vervain in his open palm. "Your best bet, I'm afraid, beside what you already have."

She takes a calming breath, trying to get herself and the panic rising in her under control. It's a little weird to think of how much she has come to rely on wooden stake as her own freakish security blanket, but now she's going to be without it and her assurance in the meeting going well is skittering away.

"Right. Okay," she says as she reaches to take the vial from his hand, but instead of letting the glass go, he takes his free hand and wraps it around both the vial and her own. His skin is almost warm, and smooth, but he gives his grip a reassuring pressure and the abstract thought that 'he could kill but he chooses to comfort' floats through her mind. She's not sure which one of them steps closer (maybe they both do, a little), because she's lost in the pacifying expression in his warm brown eyes.

"Today will not be the day you are held to your promise," he whispers. "I will do my best to keep Klaus from paying you any attention, but you must try to fight against the Fire, if you can."

Elena can probably count, on one hand, the instances in which she's heard him like this, so affected. It's emotion (Vulnerability? Concern?) buried beneath a thin veneer of decorum, and she hates herself for having to disrespect it with what her response will be.

"I can't agree to that, Elijah," she responds, softy, regretful. "You know that."

His eyes close, and she watches him swallow, the movement in the muscles of his neck suddenly hypnotic. The instinct to comfort him – how she doesn't know – is strong but conquerable. "Of course," he says, the smallest of pensive smiles on his lips. "That was selfish of me."

And before she can ask him what he means by that, he's gone.

Two minutes later, Maggie arrives with two sandwiches, and she sits in the bed and watches Elena pack it all up.

"You're distracted," she says, mouth full of food. "You've taken that crossbow out and checked it and put it back in like, three times."

"A lot on my mind, Mags," Elena says, absently.

"So Elijah stopped by then?" the seated girl concludes, brightly. Elena lets the knife she's holding fall back to the bed covers, and Maggie takes a victorious bite from her sandwich. "Knew it."

"How can you even focus on that at a time like this?" Elena asks the girl, disbelieving. "You need to take this seriously."

It's the wrong thing to say. The sandwich hits the plate loudly, and there's a dark anger to Maggie's expression. "What do you want me to do, Aim? Sit in my room and sob? This _sucks_, but I can't...you told me yourself that this Klaus guy is going to try to win by threats and intimidation. I'm not going to let him get to me. I'm petrified of what he could do to Mom, but would you please just let me distract myself?"

Elena's never seen her this upset at _her_ (and it's not really her, it's the situation, she knows), and she sort of deserves it. She nods, meekly, and apologizes (again, how many is that in forty eight hours?) and goes back to repacking her duffel.

Maggie watches, now a little sullen, for a moment, and then says "Caroline thinks you're a Buffy."

"_What_?"

She gesticulates with the hand occupied with the sandwich. "Um, have you looked in the mirror recently?"

Blond. Armed to the teeth. Mystical Powers. She can't help but grimace, which causes Maggie to laugh. She stomps her way over to the desk while she carries the bag, knowing it will incite more mirth in her friend.

"And," the girl gets out between giggles, "you've got a vampire crushing on you, too."

Elena groans and drops the bag, and glares at her, but there's no anger behind it.

Maggie raises her hands in mock surrender.

"At least she didn't think you were a Bella."


	10. Choose to Walk in Shadows

Chapter title comes from "You Choose" by Stateless.

* * *

><p><strong>T<strong>hey're now in another country, Elena is sure of that much. The border security guard is quickly compelled and congenially waves them through the security check, holding a vicious looking dog back by its strained leash. Maggie, across from her, glances over with feigned casualness, but Elena sees the fear underneath.

This could all go horrifically, lethally wrong.

Elena wishes they were back in her room and laughing again.

The drive is completed in near silence, and it's long. They travel through small towns and she's struck by how much it looks like home in some ways – homes and woods and cars – perhaps a little more worn and a little dated. Everything seems to have a thin layer of dust, but it seems so similar.

It makes her wonder about the rest of the world, about other countries and places...what if they're all like this?

Her gaze sweeps from the passing landscape to the man seated in the front passenger seat, via the rear view mirror. He watches out the window but seems to be in another place, from the thoughtful expression on his face.

He's seen the world, seen centuries of it, and the concept suddenly leaves her marveling.

Back in Mystic Falls, after their talk in which he'd divulged all of that life-altering information, she had been amazed by the man who lived by such strong morals, who tried to keep to his word, regardless of cost. She understood _who_ he was but had, for the most part, taken it at face value.

Now she's considering just how much he's seen of humanity – to see the best and worst of humanity, time in and time out...she'd be jaded, if it were her. She is already, in some ways. While she hasn't seen a lot of the world (until now), she's world-weary, no longer as trusting. As much as she wants (and hopes) to see the best in people, she tries to guard herself for the worst.

The fact that he is who he is, still and now, speaks volumes.

_'Forever and always'_, he'd written, and meant it in many ways.

Sensing that he is being watched, Elijah remains completely still, but looks in the mirror and sees her. She offers him a small smile, and while he doesn't exactly return it, his gaze softens slightly. It's reassuring, as he's meant it to be.

"I would suggest taking your vervain now," suggests Elijah, twisting around to address the three women. Elena makes quick work of passing the LaFortes their own vials.

Bree holds hers up, and offers her daughter and her foster daughter a grimace that is supposed to be a smile.

"Cheers," she says with false bravado, and they clink their little glasses together before knocking them back. They pull over on the side of the road, and Elena opens her door to throw the glass into the underbrush.

Woods give way to sparse homes and then they grow more frequent until those are replaced by streetlamps and then the dense population of a small city. Elijah directs the driver to a parking garage.

"Mags, stay as close to the vehicle as possible," says Elena, lowly, as they all unbuckle, and Bree murmurs her agreement. If it were just her confronting Klaus, then there would be no need for an escape strategy, but Maggie needs to be kept safe, and if that means throwing her in the SUV and hightailing it out of there, she'll do it.

"Excellent plan," praises the vampire in the front seat, quietly. He's scanning their surroundings through the windows with the same intense alertness that Elena feels in the moment. The garage entrance is too far for anyone who is not a vampire to run. The empty, echoing space of the garage is too empty for anything to be readily available that could be used as a weapon.

There are two men standing by a side door, and when they all start to exit the vehicle, the pair slowly wander over, taking their time, eying them in a way that makes Elena's skin crawl. Beside her, Bree's got Maggie's hand in a white-knuckled grip.

"Weren't told to expect a third girl," says one of the men in heavily accented English. There's a feral glint in his eye that's got nothing to do with the darkening veins on his face. His gait because more predatory, and he draws himself up to appear larger as he approaches.

Perhaps, when she was younger, when vampires were still recently discovered to be real to her, this behavior would be frightening (she knows it would be, actually), but now?

She's gone toe-to-toe with the oldest, most horrible and vicious of vampires the world over, and lived to tell the tale.

Something she's noticed about vampires is that the older they get, the more their clothing seems more like a costume, as if they only wear it to play a part. The new ones still wear clothing they are comfortable in – the styles they grew up in and feel familiar with. This vamp is totally at home in those baggy jeans and rhinestone decorated button-down.

He's a baby vampire trying to intimidate her with physical size and power.

Elena find there's a giggle bubbling up in her throat, and it takes a lot of control but she doesn't let it escape. She's either going mental or she's a little more badass than she thought.

Maybe 'Buffy' is close to the truth.

"She's the girl's protection," explains Elijah as he steps forward, "and that is a statement, not a challenge; if you would be so kind as to escort us to see my brother, I am sure we would all like to move this along."

"Gotta check you all over," says Thug #2. They could be twins.

"Precautions," elaborates Thug #1.

And by that, they mean a pat down.

Thug #2 goes to reach for Maggie. Instantly, Elena feels the prickle beneath her skin, but before anyone can so much as blink, Elijah has darted in front of them men in a blur of movement.

"No one is to touch the girl," he says, warningly. "That was what we agreed upon."

Elijah is a good foot shorter than either of the man-shaped boulders, but as they stare one another down, he seems to tower over him. Once more he's the terrifying, aloof and regal figure she first met, capable of decimating whatever or whoever is in his way.

And she knows that should it come to that, he will add that name and face to his list of regrets.

"He could tear out your heart without a second thought," she voices, helpfully. "Just a suggestion, I'd listen to him."

Drawn shoulders relax slightly, but Elijah continues to stand stock still until the other vampire (hybrid, she thinks, judging by the cockiness) steps back.

For her assistance, she's the lucky person who gets to be patted down. Indignation and accompanying rage twists her stomach as she's told to put her hands against the front of their SUV, as if she were being arrested. Elena bites the inside of her cheek and stares directly ahead as one of the thugs does a more than thorough search.

She can't bring attention to herself, and even the slightest protest right now could mark her as a target of curiosity.

Asking for Bree or Maggie to kill the fucker with their brains is in that same vein of 'drawing unwanted attention', and Klaus is not above petty revenge for the sake of revenge, so she keeps quiet.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Elijah move, discretely and carefully, to stand between the LaFortes and the unoccupied vampire, and while that is more than enough to suffice, there's a blazing anger hidden in his face. He waits until she makes full eye contact with him to shift his furious gaze to the person who is currently manhandling her.

He's a marked man – or vampire. Unbidden, a memory of someone's heart being torn out plays out, followed by Trevor losing his head. The small, nearly imperceptible twitch of her head is the closest action she can do at the moment that implies furiously shaking it from side to side. It's enough, but for the duration of her pat down, a muscle in his jaw twitches.

The thug who is acting as voyeur finally tells the other one (now more intimately acquainted with Elena than she'd ever want – when this is over, she's going to bathe in Purell and then, when this is _all_ over, she'll find the nearest sharp and wooden object and introduce the guy to it) that Klaus is expecting them, and Elena is allowed to join Bree and Maggie, whose clammy hand reaches out and latches on to hers.

She wants to cry and she wants to scream but she keeps it inside, bottled up. If she needs that energy, that anger later, wasting it now won't help her.

Elijah brushes past them -"Later," he promises, and she feels no guilt – to proceed them into the room, but only by two steps – enough space for him to turn and defend them if needed.

Elena moves herself back by half a step to protect their backs.

They are led through the fire door in the corner of the parking lot, and it turns out to be an access door for a nightclub.

Black chandeliers accented with red rhinestones hang from the ceiling, and the walls appear to be papered with black velvet damask on a gray background, everything metal is a highly-polished silver, and in the raised lounge area that looks out over the dance floor (currently being mopped, but where they step, their feet seem to stick to the floor), white leather couches are accented with red pillows.

The damask pattern is far too dramatic, as are the large black-and-white photographs of scantily-clad young people with fangs and bright red lips and pupils. A brooding looking boy with thick eyebrows and a prominent pout is clutching a dead-eyed young woman with stringy black hair in the largest of these photographs, and its black Baroque frame is splattered in red. It's hard to make out due to the high contrast of the photo, but it seems the girl is holding an apple, but someone forgot to color it red.

It's like the decorator took their cues from the Twilight merchandise section of Hot Topic.

Sprawled like a king on the center most couch in the lounge area is Klaus, a cheerful, satisfied look on his face. He barely acknowledges their entrance, lazily finishing a conversation with an enraptured (compelled to be so, she's not sure) man who is perched near him. Only when it's finished does he push himself off of couch and waves for the two thugs to escort them up the steps.

"Brother," Klaus greets the man warmly, then takes hold of the offered hand in a familiar shake before he pulls Elijah in for an embrace. For his part, Elijah seems to return the action with matched affection. "I am happy that you've come."

"Think nothing of it, Nicklaus," says Elijah with more somber tones. "When I heard of your plans to resurrect Tatia, I started to make preparations."

"It means a lot to me, your help," responds Klaus and he looks beyond his sibling's shoulder to look over the three women. "Your Bennett has her own protection detail, I see." The belittling tone is not hard to pick up on.

Maggie shrinks back, but Bree, suddenly trying to stand tall, puts a hand at her daughter's back and forces her to stay between them. Elena moves in slightly, and they're now nearly shoulder to shoulder.

"Precautions the family took even before I introduced myself to them," says Elijah. "However, please know that all aspects of the spell that are necessary and in my possession are being handled with the utmost care."

Klaus nods. "All that we are now missing is the Doppelganger's blood...It was my suspicion, based upon what Rebekah told me, that the 'lovely Elena' might have been with you. So sad to see that's not the case."

There is something in the delivery of the words that leads her to believe there is more to them than she knows. Elena knows her heart is already beating wildly, but she's tried to mentally prepare herself, and prays her heart doesn't skip a beat as she watches Elijah be scrutinized closely by his hybrid half-brother.

She wishes that she could see his face, but she can tell by his posture and the pause before speaking that Elijah seems to choosing his words carefully. "After she went out of the town in the spring, I have not-"

Klaus cuts him off with a surprised bark of laughter. "Dryden! Oh, it's been _years_ since I heard Dryden." He puts an arm around his brother's shoulders and they turn, moving towards the three women. "Quite well played, too. But she is not worth such verses, brother, you've no need to be the 'victim for mankind' – how dramatic. I have a way to draw her out, no worries."

He ignores, almost completely, Bree and Elena on either side of Maggie, zeroing in on her. "And you must be our other Bennett witch," Klaus declares, and juts out his hand. "Margaret, correct?"

Hesitantly, Maggie nods and takes up the offered hand, but instead of shaking it, Klaus dips low and kisses it; he gives the girl a once over as he does, inspecting her for signs of neglect, and stands back up. Elena feels her skin crawl, and takes the moment of distraction to look around for signs of Lucy. "Thank you for assisting us, Margaret, no doubt you want to know your mother is safe."

"Where is she?" she asks, the tremble of her voice betraying her emotions. "I thought she'd be here."

A feigned sheepish expression spreads on Klaus' features. "Perhaps I misspoke earlier in my conversation with my brother: I asked that we meet and provide one another signs that we were caring for you and your mother appropriately." He gestures to her. "I've seen that you are safe and sound, and will demonstrate the same for my part."

He pulls out his phone and holds it up for all of them to see. Lucy is on the screen, the fact that it is a video is given away by the ambient noises, tinny and soft, coming from the phone. She barely moves, sitting stiffly in a chair. The moment the phone is held in a way that she can see who is on the other end, she leans forward in her seat, eyes widening.

"Maggie?"

"Mom!" the young woman cries, but Elena and Bree hold her back. "Mom, are you okay?"

The screen swivels shakily and Rebekah appears, an false smile on her lips. "I take my role as hostess quite seriously," she answers, sarcasm dripping acidic from her tone. Another move and Lucy is back on the screen, swallowing thickly, eyes wide and open.

"Sweetie, are you okay?" asks Bree, voice suddenly filled with an eerie calm. "We're all safe over on this end."

Lucy seems to relax slightly, eyelids closing for a moment and she takes a shuddering, relieved breath. "Yes," she says quietly. "Yes, I'm fine."

Elena feels as if their family is on display, but knows there's no way to grant them privacy.

"We'll see you soon, alright? Everything will be alright."

Lucy nods, and her eyes are shining with tears. "Okay...oka-I love you, all of you."

Maggie goes to open her mouth and respond, but Klaus disconnects the call and pockets the phone. The younger LaForte woman stares at his jacket pocket hungrily, and Elena grabs her arm, giving a dismissive shake of her head.

"See?" says Klaus, congenially. "We each have a role in this; as long as we all keep to them, the other won't forget what part they are to play, and we shall all part on happy terms."

It's a total lie, and Elena knows it.

He pats Elijah on the back. "I might need your help with housing something, brother. A rather large crate is going to be waiting back at your home. I'm sure you'll find space for it somewhere in that big, drafty place of yours. Just keep the contents safe and bring them when it's time."

"Of course," the other Original vampire replies, quickly.

"Well," sighs Klaus as he claps his hands together dramatically. "I'd say this went well, don't you agree? We'll keep in touch, and keep an eye out for the Doppelganger, and the big night will be here before we know it. If you'll excuse me, ladies, the owner of this establishment was just about to let me do a little browsing of her wait staff for a quick snack."

They're being dismissed, and they start to hurry along back to the exit, but Elijah calls his brother's name. He moves forward in a blur and stands beside his brother, and they have a quick conversation, so quiet that the two vampires on either side of the women seem to be straining to hear what they mutter lowly. At the conversation's end, Klaus nods.

Elena feels panic in her gut when she sees the gleeful glint to his eye.

"Of course, brother; by all means, do as you must."

And then they are back on their way to the vehicle, where their driver still stands; upon seeing them, he flicks his cigarette to the ground. Elijah brings up the rear, his back stiff and a look of fiery resolve on his face, and when they reach the SUV, he quickly barks something to the driver. The man throws the door open and all but picks Maggie up to throw her in the van, and reaches for Bree to do the same, but the older LaForte is a little more prepared, and shouts for him to let go of her.

You never forget the sound. It stays with you.

There's a wet noise, and a crunch, and by the time Elena's whips her head around as she's being pushed into the SUV, she sees it.

Maggie is screaming.

Crumpled on the ground is the hybrid who had so clearly enjoyed getting to pat her down, and above him, Elijah holds his heart, dripping. He moves, ever so slightly, so that he's facing her, and shows her the organ.

In his action there's no pride, but there's no remorse. Just...anger. Just anger and something dark and Elena knows then, when all she can do is discretely incline her head in acknowledgment (not approving, not fearful), that there's something a little dark about her, too.

At that same moment, she sees the other thug advance on him, pulling a stake out of his jacket, and even though she knows it can't truly harm Elijah, she finds herself shouting, and there's a burning beneath her skin, a fury she's only felt a few times, and as it seems to engulf her, she knows what is about to come.

The hybrid doesn't make it closer than seven paces, despite his speed. He seems to bounce off of some barrier around Elijah, and when he starts to stumble backward, he goes up in flames. Actual, painful, destructive flames. They're brighter than they ought to be, she seems to absentmindedly notice.

Arms wrap around her waist and yank her onto the seat.

"Honey get in the car," says Bree, unnecessarily. She's shaken and it's obvious, but she hauls Elena against her one side and Maggie against the other and holds on tightly to them for the duration of the ride.

Elena has just set someone on fire. Someone who is currently screaming, a sound that's muffled once Elijah gets in the car and the large vehicle is rapidly turned around and they exit the garage.

"It's going to be okay," Bree keeps saying, and Elena suddenly feels exhausted. She lets Bree's words wash over her, lets the herself slump back into the seat.

Elijah makes eye contact with her in the rear view mirror once more, just as her own are starting to slide shut.

The fear that causes Maggie to sob softly, that makes Bree's heart beat rapidly in the chest she's slumped against, that triggers a twitch in the driver's eye...it's not in Elijah, nor is there pride.

She sees recognition.

She sees acceptance.

She sees a regret but it's so very complicated she cannot try to hold it up to the light right now.

(She's starting to feel these things herself.)

Sleep steals her away and she does not fight.


	11. That Secret That We Know

Title comes from 'Blood Bank' by Bon Iver.

Thank you for all the reviews! The time you take to review is very much appreciated. :)

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><p><strong>S<strong>he is pulled from her dreams with a loud, gasping breath, and she finds herself pushing the heavy duvet off of her body, trying to rid herself of any weight that reminds her of the nightmare. Elena draws her knees up and presses back against the pillows resting on the headboard, breathing heavily and feeling frantic.

"Are you alright?"

She turns and finds herself the subject of Elijah's concerned gaze. He's drawn one of those plush armchairs from the fireplace over to the edge of her bed, and he has been sitting, neatly, with a leg folded over the other, and leaning one elbow against the chair arm closest to the bed, head resting on that hand, a finger to his brow and another on his lip. His coat is thrown over the back of the chair, neatly folded. Evidence of this casual position is erased as he sits up straight in the seat, the book on his lap long forgotten.

She bobs her head frantically, because her throat is dry and she's still trying to catch her breath. He passes a glass of water to her, which she gulps down greedily and passes back over with a shaking hand.

"You were having a nightmare." It's a statement, but it's a prompt for her to talk about it.

She draws hands through blond hair – feels a jolt of strangeness as she always does, especially now as she's jumpy – and whispers an affirmation before asking in a stronger voice "Were you in there?"

He seems shocked by the question, even though it's quite legitimate. "I would never be so bold as to do such a thing without your permission beforehand."

"Thanks," she croaks, tearing her hands through her hair once more with clawed fingers. She doesn't think he'd passively sit by if he had been in her head and had seen what was going on. "It was...I was in a coffin and they thought I was dead, I think I _was_ dead, I don't know I was..." she trails off, taking in a shuddering breath, and feels the pillow beside her shift slightly.

Elena looks down and sees Elijah's carefully offered hand, palm open and she latches on to it.

"But Maggie," she whispers, voice high with the first notes of encroaching hysteria. "She thought I was a monster. She was afraid I'd come back and hurt her."

"You care a lot about the girl."

She nods. "She's like a little sister, and friend." She takes a long, indelicate sniff, and feels concern flood her emotions, remembers how upset Maggie was as she was falling asleep. "Is she okay? Is Bree okay?"

The vampire nods. "They're both quite safe, and just one room away." He points at their shared (closed) door, and she notices the sage burning on the chest of drawers beside it. Bree's work, no doubt, before leaving – an act of kindness extended even in the aftermath of what has taken place. "Ms. LaForte is in with her daughter, but she wanted to ensure that you weren't alone when you woke up, in case your glamor slipped. Caroline and Bonnie are growing concerned, as they have been trying the Salvatores and have been unable to reach them for some time now."

She hopes they're okay. She prays that it's a case of bad reception but a small voice in the back of her head tells her she ought to brace herself for the next crisis.

Elena swallows, and squeezes her eyes shut, but opens them quickly when, unbidden, the memory of the bright white flare of fire engulfing the hybrid starts to play. In their chemistry class, Maggie and Elena had witnessed the sheer brightness of some element – magnesium, she thinks – when it was set on fire, and had been warned not to look at it directly while it was alight.

This had been brighter, and she is sure the image is now burned into her memory forever.

The Petrova Fire is a lot of things, and many she doesn't quite know or understand, but she knows this much: it protects those you care for, and it's never been so ferocious.

Maybe she' s been in denial a lot more than she initially thought.

As much as it protects, what has happened has torn off a layer of her own defenses, exposing both her and anyone else knowledgeable to a fact she's tried to push aside.

"How do you feel?" he probes quietly.

She does a mental once over. Honestly, it feels as though she just woke up on the tail end of the flu caught simultaneously with getting hit by a truck. Her limbs and her torso muscles feel weak, and she simply feels drained. Add to that the knowledge that she _just fucking set someone on fire_, and she's not in the best of shape.

"Not okay," she whispers, with a shaky laugh, because she doesn't feel the need to lie to him. There's a flash of deeper worry in his gaze but she presses onward, because if she lets herself go to that place, there's no chance she'd be able to get a move on with her day. Accepting is one thing, dealing another. "How long was I out?"

"The drive was three hours, and it has been about the same since we arrived back here."

She knows she ought to say something, but her synapses aren't back up to their normal firing speed. Six hours means it's pretty late at night, almost very early in the day. It's one less day until the ritual. One less day to try to come up with a backup plan, another one, just to make sure Maggie would be safe, to make sure Bonnie and Caroline and Bree and Lucy all walk away from this safely, to ensure that Elijah...

As long as she's breathing, he's basically untouchable, she realizes now. They all are, to an extent. If she's alive and keeps herself that way, their chances of staying the same (in each of their varying states of life) increases. For someone who tries to always puts others first, the situation is frustrating.

She exhales loudly and rubs a hand across her forehead.

Her mind jumps to that moment before she fell asleep, and Elijah's face in the mirror.

_He knows_. Her reaction to that phrase is the same as it was last time. Of course he can hear her heart rate start to race (spend enough time around vampires and you become hyper aware of that beating in your chest), and he can hear her swallow. He's watching her carefully- even with her head turned, she knows this.

Another silent conversation and for the first time, it's not enough. She wants to hear these things that pass between them spoken out loud.

She makes no attempts at concealing it when she turns to look him square in the eye. He regards her with quiet worry, and something soft, and sadly, rue. For her, not towards her.

Whatever this is between them, it's transformed itself since they met. Imagining a life where they never met is disorientingly empty, and she knows it was never meant to be hers – the concept seems to frighten some part of her, actually.

Katherine was a reminder of Tatia, and he cared for her because of that. And as for Tatia, she doesn't really know what the girl was like, but there's something about the way he looks at her that makes her think he's not seeing that girl in her.

He sees _her_.

He saw her when no one else could, and he always has, once they started to negotiate and gradually came to know one another on better terms. There is no wall he cannot take down with a simple glance, and there's no need for them when it comes to him.

What she gets about this connection between them is something he doesn't understand, but she wants him – desperately wants him – to understand that there is no need for apologies between them. They both put their loved ones first, and while it draws them together, it can pull them apart (although, perhaps now, he is no longer on that opposing side when it comes to those she wants to protect...okay, he definitely isn't). Thinking about the possibility in the upcoming days that he could make a choice that could have them working against one another makes her sick to her stomach.

Time seems precious, tumbling through her hands like sand or water, and she wants him to know she _gets_ this, and she's impatient, and selfish, and she yearns to be more, to be better, but they have a little time now and she's not sure how this is all going to end – he isn't either. She wants to be greedy, truly for the first time, greedy.

Confidence grows as she draws in a breath to speak, as she thinks back on the last few whirlwind days. This feeling of certainty is gaining momentum.

"I regret," she voices, carefully, feeling each word drop like a rock in water, bridging – she hopes – some indeterminable distance between them, "that I killed him; I don't want to hurt other people, that's not...I'm not that kind of person, and I am going to keep making every effort to find ways to keep it from happening again."

There's a sad sort of acceptance in his eyes, but before he can speak, she squeezes his hand, and sits up a little straighter. The last thing she wants to see is this look on his face. Her gut feels like she's on a roller coaster, just about to reach the top of a drop, and she's the one who controls when it happens.

"But I'm not sorry for what..for how I _feel_, for how I feel about you." It comes out in a whisper, because no matter how much she wants this and oh, how she wants this, it's delicate and precious and no one else, aside from him, should get to see it. It's something dramatically breakable right now, that she puts in his hands, something that doesn't have a full shape yet, but maybe, if they both try to discern it, test it out, they'll find out what it is...

It's extraordinary, watching relief wash over his expression. She casts a quick glance over at the doors and tests the locks with magic. Certain they are secure, she allows her glamor to drop. It's more for her benefit than his, because she's not sure if she could keep it up for the entirety of this conversation.

She moves to the edge of the bed as he moves to the edge of the chair, so they can be closer.

"Elena," he whispers, and she can hear that he means to protest – there's a reluctant tone to it though. She thinks of the word 'regret' in his letter, and wonders if this was one of his meanings even then. She knots their fingers together, stubborn.

"No, no please don't do this," she says, fiercely. "I _know_ you, Elijah. And I know you've...you've been trying to keep your distance, but back there, in that garage?" She stops and swallows and knows she's on the verge of tears. "I'd do it again. I'd do it again for you."

He seems just as surprised as she is when he reaches out and with his thumb, brushes away the tear forming there. "And this fact saddens you," he states, but questions.

"A little," she admits. "Just as much as you didn't enjoy ripping out that guy's heart. This scares me, but..."

"It was necessary," he affirms, "but I do not hold you accountable for my actions, I assure you." Something firm and distant reappears in his voice and eyes, and she knows he takes the blame. "We can't do this, Elena. You shouldn't want this, I have done and will do atrocious things, and-"

"-And I haven't? I won't?" her voice cracks, feeling her eyebrows rise. "No one has clean hands, Elijah, least of all the pair of us, but...but I'm okay with it. I'm not proud of it, but I understand why we do these things, and how we try to avoid them. We can live with those choices, we've both learned how to. Neither of us have made the other what they are."

He whispers her name once more, and leans over, dropping his forehead on their joined hands, and she feels the chuff of his breath against her knee where their hands rest. With her free hand, she runs fingers through his hair, splays them out on his back, and feels firm muscle his ragged breaths.

For what seems like forever, the only sound is their breathing and the crackling of the fire.

"I have killed for you," he murmurs, the sound traveling through her as well, the words already echoed in her thoughts. "You have done the same for me."

What if he denies it all? She knows now, looking back, what she has seen in his actions, his words, and his looks. The chance of her misreading all of this is so slim, and yet, her self-doubt starts to grow with each passing moment. An instant ago she felt like the last person to recognise this and now...

"Say something," she begs. "Please just tell me if I'm crazy or-"

"No," he responds and cuts her off, bringing his head up. "Never, Elena, do not think that for a second. I have tried so very hard to hide this from you; this failure on my part to-"

It's not anger, maybe it's impatience, or frustration – that's a better term for it, but it leaves her cutting him off, a no-nonsense look on her face. "Yes, the timing sucks, but I'm not hiding from you, Elijah. Everything you've asked of me, I've done, or answered. So please don't hide from me. Don't regret this...we have a little time now, and we have a second chance."

He can read the challenge in her eyes, the request that lingers and is too grand a demand to truly voice.

It's incredible, watching the change in him. He sits up, open, honest, and she's scared, God, she is so frightened of this (not him, never him, just her feelings for him because now she's letting herself feel them and it's a tidal wave that drowns her and slakes a thirst she's ignored for so long, but it only seems to awaken another), but she stills and holds her breath when he reaches out and runs his fingers down the side of her face.

(Elena's noticed this in him. With a world that spins out of his control, that changes quicker than he can understand, he tries to anchor himself to it, assure himself of it, by touch. If she can provide that assurance to him she will stay like this for as long as she can.)

There is a look of awe on his face, as his thumb that traces her wet cheek bends and rests at the edge of her lip. Her nerves sing where he touches, and instinctively, she leans into him, giddy for more. She remembers when he looked like this, in the Salvatore's basement, when he realized who she was, and what she had done.

Even then they were taking steps to this.

This is a weakness she can't truly afford, but it's always been there, and she greedily draws strength from his own strength. For every time he seems to regard her as something precious, he's also acknowledged her as an equal, as a person with similar aims, as someone to walk alongside. And so it makes sense that the bed and the chair allow them to find an equal eye level.

It feels like a lifetime passes between his eyes dropping to her lips, and some mutual move to close the distance between them.

His lips are cool and firm, and they move over hers so gently and carefully at first she finds the tears in her eyes start anew. Their joined hands are held so tightly her knuckles are white, and she snakes her free arm around his neck trying to close the space.

His fingers thread through her hair, but drag forward to cup her cheek when her lips part against his. She cannot stop the needy noise that erupts in the back of her throat when his tongue brushes hers.

This is giving up on loves they thought they could save – his, fraternal, hers, youthful.

This is holding onto something they didn't think they could have.

The burning beneath her skin is different now, and she hasn't felt it in a very long time, but ever cognizant, Elijah tapers the kisses until they are the briefest of pressures against her wanting mouth, and her breathing evens out, eyes closed, foreheads pressed together. They have a lot to do and he raggedly whispers 'later' in such a way she wants to do whatever it is that needs doing so they can return to this.

The blush on her cheeks that bloomed as their kisses grew heated is reignited when she looks into his knowing eyes. He presses, once more, his lips to hers, and she can only imagine how full her own must look. She can feel the throb of her own blood in them even now.

She has to check on Maggie, needs to salvage their friendship. Right now, the girl is so frightened she could easily run to Klaus if they're not careful.

They both jump when his phone rings, and she draws back and sits securely on the bed (she was seconds away from falling onto his lap – and she can't decide if that would have been a good or a bad thing) while he gives her a _very_ apologetic look. He walks over to the fireplace, but continues to face her, watching her as he answers it.

"Klaus," he greets. "I was starting to grow concerned; your package has not yet arrived...Ah, I see. My apologies. They have not contacted me with this information and you can assure your friend that this does not need to escalate to violence; I will inform the guards to let them through, and you will tell him to leave my guard's injuries at a broken arm."

He ends the call and stares at the phone in his hands for a moment.

When she comes to stand before him at the mantle, her glamor is back in place, and apprehension is growing in her gut, destroying those lighter, happier butterflies who had previously been occupying the space.

"This isn't going to be good, whatever it is, is it?" she asks, already knowing the answer.

He shakes his head. "My brother's creativity when it comes to these matters knows no bounds; whatever is in that package is going to be something he'll believe you would be unable to resist coming for."

He returns to the chair beside her bed and retrieves his coat, pocketing the phone in it. In seconds he's back to his clean-cut self, his lips no longer swollen, no sign of what had just happened evident on him. He tucks her hair behind her ear and runs his finger over her jaw. "Bring a stake and hope for the best," he says grimly. "I need to go rouse Andrei and fetch some vampire blood for the guard."

She catches his arm just as he reaches for the door, hating the place her mind is going to. "Should I go get some blood bags?"

When he nods she feels her stomach drop because they're thinking the same thing. He asks her, once they're in the hallway, to fetch Caroline and Bonnie, but she comes up with a better solution.

"Elijah asked me to ask you to keep trying your friend's phone again, but to stay here," she says after they answer their door, knowing he'll back up the lie if pressed.

She catches up with Elijah and Mr. Krall in the foyer. The vampire holds a crowbar and Elena brandishes her crossbow in one hand, a sack filled with blood bags in the other. Mr. Krall seems nervous, and his grip tightens on the rifle over his shoulder. Good to know that the man is armed, she notes, and with a firearm he seems comfortable with enough to rely on.

The trio steps outside, and Elena is grateful she remembered to throw on her fleece zipup before leaving; her breath clouds before her, and the chilly night air seems still. Their steps echo across the hard-packed dirt of the plaza within the gates. Someone has turned on several large stadium-style lights at the gate, and the surrounding area is bleached and thrown into high-contrast, the field receding into inky black.

It's a very, very large box that waits for them at the gate-it's a wooden square crate that's taller than she is, and she feels her anxiety notch upwards. Two security guards (one looking a little roughed up), stand with the box.

While they're only just on the other side of the wrought iron fence, they're close enough that they can draw back through and into the safety of the grounds it if need be. Elena drops the sack to the hard-packed dirt and draws the crossbow up, training it on the box.

Elijah speaks quickly to the guards (probably thanking them and apologizing for any injury), hands one guard the ampule of dark liquid, and while he shakes their hands, presses small rolls of money into their hands. Then, he turns with the crowbar and to pry off the lid.

She flicks off the safety on her weapon, hears Mr. Krall do the same. Mystic Falls is rural enough for her to know the sound of a rifle prepared to be shot; she moves to the side slightly, a safe distance away and hopes he has a steady hand.

Instantly, the noise she thought she heard faintly is more than horribly clear as the lid hits the ground.

Stefan's phone rings from within the crate.

"Mr. Krall, I need you to invite these two men inside, please," requests Elijah. There's an urgency to his voice that brooks no argument, and the other man is quick to comply.

"And their names?" he asks even as the guards start to push the crate in through the grate.

"Damon and Stefan Salvatore," Elijah says as he pries the side off of the crate with rapid precision, so they can gain easier access to the brothers that lay on the floor of the crate. "Call your boy out here, we will need help."

Elena chokes back her gasp, drops the crossbow to her side, and finds herself grabbing onto Elijah's arm when she sees them. The hand at her back is heavy but reassuring, and she knows if she tries to dart forward now, he'd probably stop her.

They're unconscious, their skin is a sickening gray and deeply veined, and there's an I.V. pole bolted to the floor between them. Twin lines snake into their forearms from clear-plastic bags, but she sees that there's a yellow tint to them. Vervain. They're being dosed with vervain.

She has a second phone, one that she texts Klaus from, to inform him of when she's sent him his next blood supply. She typically keeps it off but on her person.

She pulls the phone from her pocket, and with freezing fingers, powers it on. As it turns on, Mr. Krall and his son, under Elijah's instruction, quickly disconnect the brothers and quickly set about using the same intravenous lines to start supplying them blood.

The phone beeps to signal that she's received a new message. She huddles against Elijah so that they can both see the screen.

Attached to the text is a photograph of the boys, in similar but slightly better shape than they currently are now, and a brief message:

_THEY WON'T LAST FOREVER ELENA._


	12. Stalled In This Place

Chapter title from Barcelona's Time to Mend

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><p><strong>T<strong>hey drag the brothers inside, and Elijah directs them towards the basement. Elena does a quick cursory check and sees that their rings are still on their hands, but she barely starts to frown before the Original vampire explains his decision.

"We have no idea what he did to them _before_ the vervain."

She nods, biting her lip, and they continue down the stairs to the basement. It must be a vampire thing, because there are two dimly lit cells and they've clearly been here for centuries. While they can still talk and see one another through the bars, at least they are separated.

For all they know, Klaus has compelled them to try to kill one another once they get their strength back, or they might be combative when they wake up, disoriented. They set them up with blood bags and thank Mr. Krall who, shaken, returns back to his part of the house, his son in tow.

Elena stares at the closed, locked basement door, and turns to find Elijah watching her.

Before he'd left Mystic Falls, she'd still been a bit in love with Stefan, and was starting to admit to the undeniable pull she felt towards the elder Salvatore. She wants to say out loud that it's not like that anymore, but now isn't the time. Two years away from the tug-of-war game she'd been stuck in has allowed her to view the situation with a clearer head and a different perspective. They're always going to be important to her, but two years away from the pressure of being what they wanted her to be has allowed to her figure out who she really is.

"They will be safe," he promises her. "I hesitate to notify Bonnie and Caroline that they are here, but as there are too many secrets in this house, perhaps we should tell them."

"This is everything I tried to stop," she whispers, feeling her composure cracking. What's next? Who else will be pulled into this? She wraps her arms around her own waist and worries her lip and tries not to think about Jeremy, or Alaric, or Tyler being drawn into this.

"They will be safe," he repeats, firmly, and draws one of her hands up to his lips, kissing it. There's no predatory leer in his gaze, as there had been when Klaus had done the same to Maggie.

It's enough to keep her thoughts in one place, to go down one train of it and rationally think of the next step that needs to be taken. Klaus would find it strange if she didn't react soon, but too close to the Salvatores 'delivery' would seem suspicious.

"I'll call him in two hours," she tells him, and he nods.

He sees her to the LaForte's doorway before leaving to go find Caroline and Bonnie to explain to them what has happened.

She knocks on their door, and after a moment, Bree answers it. She looks beyond exhausted, and her eyes are rimmed red.

"Aimee," she murmurs, voice rough from sleeplessness. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay, but I'll feel even better after I check on you two," she explains, and peers over her shoulder to see that Maggie is starting to sit up in bed. "Can I come in?"

"Of course, honey."

Not even twenty four hours ago, she'd walked easily into this room, and now she treads as carefully as she can, feeling like an outsider. "Hey," she says to Maggie, tentatively.

The girl nods, licks her lips nervously and gives a weak smile.

Elena tries not to cry when she realizes that there is fear in her friend's eyes, in the press of her lips. It's painfully similar to what was in her nightmare. She tucks her hair behind her ear and sits on Bree's bed, keeping her distance.

"Do you want to talk abou-"

"You killed someone."

It's said quietly, but it makes Elena wince.

"Yes," she replies, after taking a deep breath. It's strange to hear her own voice, so matter-of-fact.

Maggie turns to face her fully, now on top of the sheets, and Bree perches on the other side of the bed, thumbing through her Grimoire; she appears not to really pay attention to the conversation, but both girls know better. "Did you know you could do that?" the younger woman asks, delicately.

Elena shakes her head. "No. And I hope I don't have to ever do that again."

Maggie bites her lip again, plays with a curl, tries to entangle the young woman in front of her and the choices she's making. "But you would. If you had to." She frowns while processing this.

Just over the girl's shoulder, Bree looks up from the Grimoire and catches Elena's eye, then pointedly looks at Maggie.

Even with everything that has gone on in the past few days, Maggie is still innocent; they've fought to keep her this way. Bree and Lucy want to keep their daughter in this state for as long as possible – Elena does, too. Not irrationally naïve, but safe.

But Elena is not in that same state. Until she came to live with them, she had friends but no parents, people who tried to protect her, but ultimately, decisions were left in her hands. Her choices weren't always easy, and when they were taken out of her hands she tried to fight to get control back, but at the end of the day, she'd chosen to be who she was now.

The magic that is a part of her, that controls her at times, is a part of those choices, and she's had to accept it. Maggie doesn't have to understand her motivations, or empathize; she just has to accept that 'Aimee' is willing to do whatever it takes.

"Yes," she responds. "For you..." she trails off, swallows, and continues, knowing the next two words out of her mouth are going to expose her in a way that no one in Mystic Falls ever saw, "f-for him. For your parents."

"That second part, that's new," Bree comments bluntly, and watches her carefully once more.

Cheeks burning, she says smoothly "It doesn't supersede the other parts."

Maggie sighs deeply and closes her eyes. "This is all a lot to deal with right now," she says, weakly. "Aim, I don't...I get it. Okay, I don't, but I...I need a couple more hours to mope and I'll be good, I think."

Elena nods, a little too enthusiastically, but at the moment she's just happy Maggie hasn't run screaming or something. "Okay. Alright."

"I'll walk you to your room," offers Bree, and Elena knows what's on its way.

As they enter her room, she sees the bartender looking around, and she can't help but roll her eyes. "He's not waiting in my bed, Bree," she quips, but receives a dubious look in response. She motions for the older woman to close the door while she lights the sage before telling her the news. "Klaus had Damon and Stefan delivered here, loaded with vervain, we're guessing as bait."

Bree's eyes harden and her lips thin. "And you didn't think I should know about this _before_ now?"

"I came straight up from helping with them," Elena responds, defensively. Given the chance, even after two years, she thinks Bree would probably take a stake to Damon's chest, so she won't tell the woman where they are.

Bree wastes no time in continuing. "And now that they're here, are you planning to set anyone else on fire?"

It stings.

She takes a deep breath, holds it, and then lets it out before responding as calmly as possible. Acting rashly has only led to problems in the past, and she's going to avoid them at all costs.

"If something had happened to Elijah back there, we would have had a hard time getting Maggie out safely. Even if he'd have been incapacitated momentarily, it could have been enough of a delay for that hybrid to do something to her."

That's what she's rationalized in the short time she's had to think it over.

She continues, feeling it necessary to. "Am I going to try to keep the slaying-by-magical-fire to a minimum? Yes. But Bree? You're exhausted and your nerves are shot, and I think you need to just...just take a nap. Go get some rest. You and Maggie are worried sick over Lucy, I know, but when you wake up, we'll all work on the plans."

Bree seems startled into a softer expression. "You're defensive, but you're not angry right now," she marvels, then humbly adds. "I'm sorry, it's just that I figured you'd be angry with me, and you've got every right to be...I mean, shit, honey, we made you like this."

Elena can't think of anything truly reassuring enough to say, so she settles on hugging the woman, and telling her to go sleep until it was a normal hour of morning, even maybe one with double digits.

Needing a change of scenery, she decides to take a walk around the house (if she finds an Original vampire along the way, she won't complain) but when she passes by Bonnie and Caroline's shared room, she can hear the sobbing and ducks around the corner.

"- your fault, Caroline. You need to stop feeling guilty about this, neither one of them would want that." Bonnie's soothing voice seems at odds with Caroline's.

"I know!" cries the girl, voice hitting high notes. "I know, and that's what's so frustrating, I mean, it's been two years, Bonnie. Two years and I still feel like I'm stealing Elena's boyfriend even if they broke up, and this past month...I'm finally okay with it, and I was thinking 'Hey, if it keeps up like this, I think I'd feel better if I just emailed her about it'."

Elena bites her lip and holds her breath, waiting for the conversation to continue. Stefan and Caroline? That's...it makes sense, sort of. And she knows they've been close since he helped her with her transition, but dating? Tyler was out of the picture, she guessed.

"She's never-"

"I _know_ she doesn't ever respond, but I wanted her to know. And I tell him I love him and then you and I left and the next thing I know, Klaus kidnaps him and tortures him and Elena is going to show up and find out about all of this and-"

"Caroline, you have _got_ to get yourself together!" There's the sound of shifting, and Elena knows Bonnie has probably moved to hug the vampire. "One thing at a time, alright? Elijah said he'll let us see them later, and he promised they'll be okay. Stefan is going to be okay."

There's a loud sniff. "He _did_ give us his word," responds Caroline, mollified. "And that's kind of a big deal for him, I think."

"It is. And as for Elena..." Bonnie sighs. "We'll deal with that when she gets here."

"I seriously thought she'd be with Elijah."

"I did, too."

"I mean, Rebekkah made it sound like they've basically, like, eloped or something."

"I get the feeling Aimee would be a little upset about that," intones Bonnie in a manner that means she's indulging gossip.

"Oh my God!" gasps Caroline, and the tone of delight in her voice lets her know that Bonnie has just employed a sneaky best friend maneuver to distract her. Elena feels her cheeks burn. She really _is_ the last person to have gotten that memo. "You see it, too! Okay, so I know I'm not crazy now."

With that she creeps away as carefully as possible, because hearing your two best friends unknowingly discuss their juicy predictions of your love life can be pretty horrific.

She stays in the wing they're all housed in, but wanders for a bit, studies some of the ancient artifacts that are so casually let around the halls, finally stepping out to the small balcony on the fourth floor to rest for a moment. The small area is sheltered between two of the curved towers, and provides a shaded spot to take a breath of fresh air. She leans against the flagstone railing's gentle curve and takes in the calmness of the landscape.

Winter here in Bulgaria is bitter and cold, but everything seems so _still, _poised for something_. _Elena closes her eyes and reaches out, a little, to touch the power that seems to be buzzing in the bare trees, in the movement of the water, in the air around her. Like her, nature seems to be at rest, but coiled and ready.

Feeling and being connected with nature has been one of the benefits of the Petrova Fire; much like a witch, she can sense the earth and the magic it contains underneath her feet, and has found a strange sense of peace in that. It's dull, compared to what the true servants of nature can feel – more infinitesimal when powerful witches like Bonnie and Mags are considered – but it's something to her, and she tries to respect it, remember it.

Caroline and Stefan.

It fits. It really does. They're both people capable of sweetness and genuine _good_. There were times even back when Elena was dating Stefan where she couldn't drag him out of a brooding mood (alright, she'll admit that was his default emotion), but Caroline would know just what to say to get him to smile, relax, and laugh a little. She remembers thinking that it was some weird coincidence that, for the last two months or so, they were always next to one another in pictures, that their smiles were a little brighter.

While she was initially a little shocked, she looks deep within herself now and can find no sign of jealousy hidden deep. It's just a change, she thinks, like seeing a new color of paint on the Gilbert house (that picture got sent by Matt, along with a picture of Jeremy a little more covered in paint than necessary). A little jarring, but it could be good.

Out of her peripheral vision, she catches movement to her left, and shifts her gaze to see Elijah standing at the paned glass windows of one of the adjacent towers. He is watching the path of some birds that are traveling across the overcast sky, his hands in his pockets, but seems to sense that he is being watched, and turns his head to seek the source. His alert, serious expression seems to dissipate slightly when he sees her.

Her own image reflects in the glass beside him, they give one another small smiles only half a second apart, and she's struck by how differently she reacts to the situation this time, so very different from the time in Spencer's apartment.

She pushes off of the banister and travels the small distance back inside and to the neighboring door, which Elijah is already opening for her. Like gravity, she finds herself needing his company, and while outwardly, he seems as polished and polite as ever, there's a light in his eyes, and as he closes the door he licks his lips and she finds she can't take her eyes off of the movement. She doesn't stray from the door, but finds herself leaning against it as he steps closer.

"I need to make that call," she says, but it's a half-hearted protest.

"Soon..what were you thinking, out there on the balcony?" he asks, voice a quiet caress with a note of amusement. "You looked peaceful, despite your thoughtfulness."

"Initially, I was just...I guess you could say I was um," she seems a little tongue-tied, because his deep brown eyes are growing hungry, he seems to be considering her lips as if they're art or something, and she finds herself unsure of how to phrase this now that she's suddenly hyper aware of her own mouth, "'feeling nature, I guess."

"I have always envied witches that ability."

"It's incredible, but it's a little different for me," she admits. "From what Maggie's told me, they can feel it but I...I feel like it's a part of me, I guess?"

This distracts him, causes him to actually think for a moment. "They're servants of nature, while you _are_ nature, at least its creation," he muses. "From what I've read, the Dop-"

Instinctively, her hand flies to his lips and muffles his mouth before he can finish the word. As soon as her fingers touch his lips, he's caged her hand in is, and presses a kiss to the pads of her fingers before curling them shut. "Forgive me," he whispers, and steps back.

Elena has _got_ to get herself under control. She didn't even notice until now what room she's in. It appears to be a small study; the half-circle that is the tower is entirely made up of glass windows that allow for a view of the river, and the austere writing desk (crammed with books and paper both old and new – and she spies a laptop underneath some of the mess) is positioned so that the person seated at it can take in the view. To her left is a small chaise lounge and stacks of books that haven't made it to the bookshelves on the wall – he's quite the reader, and that similarity in them makes her smile. The last two years have lacked the hectic pace of Mystic Falls so much that she's been able to take up reading for leisure again, and it's a happy coincidence to find a fellow bookworm in Elijah.

"Can we talk in here?" she asks, and only as he looks around at the state of the room does he seem to be embarrassed at its lived-in state. "Is this where you've been sleeping?" she asks, incredulous.

"Vampire or not, even my back would not be able to tolerate that chaise lounge for sleep," he answers, shaking his head. "No, but I have been using the guest room beside this, as it allows for me to easily return to my readings a I wish; I've just been continuing to go through some old translations, to ensure we aren't missing anything."

He gestures for her to proceed him out of the room, and on their way out, he retrieves a small wooden box from a shelf. He directs her to the adjacent door, and they enter.

It's another bedroom, not as sumptuously decorated as the LaFortes, nowhere near as decadent as his actual bedroom, but expenses were not a consideration when setting this room up, either. Despite the early morning light, he flicks on the electric lights and as he walks to the curtains. "There's sage in the box, if you would be so kind," he says over his shoulder as he draws the velvet window hangings.

Sage lit, a fire started in the hearth (both kindled by Elena's magic), they settle on the leather loveseat, closer than necessary.

"You were saying," she prompts, jestingly, and they both cannot help but shyly smile a little, two sets of cheeks flushing.

Even if this is a temporary respite, even if they leave the room shortly and act as if this intimacy, this fondness, has not been demonstrated, she thinks she can handle all of this. She might even come to _need_ it.

"I was starting to say, before you correctly stopped me, that I had read that Doppelgangers are considered to be nature's answer to the need for balance. It's trivial, but I found it suiting...dark and light, gentle and strong..." he trails off as he shifts on the loveseat, draping an arm over the back as he relaxes. "What else is on your mind?"

"I overheard Caroline talking with Bonnie...apparently she's dating Stefan now, and I'm not upset about that at _all_," she adds quickly. "I'm actually really happy. It explains why your brother finally understood she was serious about turning him down, I guess."

It was like hitting a switch. Despite their physical proximity, there's a sudden distance between them. There's nothing jealous about his reaction, just... respectful?

"Stefan Salvatore has proven that even under my brother's compulsion, he'll try is best to hold his own against an Original if it comes to matters of the heart; I would not count on my brother remembering this if his jealousy flares, but it will be considered." He swallows, and if it weren't for the fact that he's clearly upset, it would be engrossing. He continues solemnly, "As for Damon, if you-"

"Stop," she breathes, closing her eyes even as he instantly obeys her command. "It's not like that at _all_. Yes, I care about Damon," she says, unafraid of saying the truth, "I care _about_ both of the Salvatores, but I don't care _for_ them."

'Like I care about you' is obvious but not being said. It takes him a moment to find his voice, and when he does, it's a nearly silent thing. "Subtle difference," he observes, and there's relief in his words.

"But an important one...They may have played a part in the events that have made me who I am now, but I don't know if I could have kept trying to be what they wanted; it was different with each of them but it was like they were looking for something from me, without even realizing it, like they wanted me fix them, or something." She sighs. "And seeing them fight like that, when I knew how much they cared about each other...that wasn't a future, and that wasn't right, me stepping between them like that."

As she speaks she can see him relax once more.

"You have no idea what reserve it took, to not say something to you, back then," he says. "It was unfair of either of them to expect you to play savior for the Salvatores, even if it the desire was unintentional."

She moves on the seat to face him, and close the space between them. "Their presence doesn't change this," she promises him. And she means it. Neither are usually careless with their words, but between the two of them, their speech always carries weight. "I may have to say things to your brother on the phone about them, but know that, please."

She's afraid of what will happen when she makes this phone call to Klaus, fearful of what else she will discover he's done to ensure her compliance. She knows Elijah hears the increase of her heart rate, and she feels her eyes sting with tears.

"Elena." She'll never grow tired of the way he says her name; no one else says it the way he does, in the manner he does.

"Will you stay with me, while I do this?" He nods, and she gives him a watery, appreciative smile.

She can't let Maggie know how fearful she is, nor Bree, because they'll see it as weakness, and doubt her. Caroline and Bonnie are off limits as confidantes, and even then, she wouldn't want them to worry. But with Elijah, she allows herself to let go of some of that control a little.

"I'm scared," she whispers, knowing all the while that he understands she means multiple things when she says it.

"You're the strongest woman I know, Elena; courage and compassion go hand in hand, and you have both to spare," he replies back, in a matched, hushed tone. He doesn't try to offer her an out, nor does he offer to take care of everything; he respects her part in all of this and is trying to support her. He wipes at the tear that's started to spill down her cheek. "It's one of the _many_ things I admire in you."

"I'm not brave, I'm petrified of what he could do to the people I care about."

He's solemn, sober, just what she needs. "But will you go through with this?"

She can't help but sniff and balk. "Of course."

"Despite your fears you do what you think is right," he murmurs as he draws closer, and she knows he will kiss her, and she knows she will draw strength from it, the kind she needs to make the call, to bring herself fully into this fight. "That, my lovely Elena, is the true definition of courage."

As she predicted, they kiss, and she tries to drink in the composure that he wears like a shield; as she predicted, she pulls back, and after a moment where she tries to get herself ready, she pulls out the phone, powers it on, and while holding onto Elijah's hand, dials Klaus' number.

He picks up on the first ring.


	13. Pull Me Through

Chapter title from Sarah Brightman's 'Deliver Me'.

* * *

><p><strong>S<strong>he's already dropped her glamor by the time he answers – she's getting better at it; it's like flexing a muscle now. She twists on the sofa to latch on to Elijah's offered hand.

"Elena," Klaus greets with false warmth. "I knew I would hear from you soon enough."

"What do you want, Klaus?" she asks, keeping her voice firm, with just a note of the fear she feels.

His voice when he answers seems to echo, as if he's in a large space – possibly the nightclub once more. "It seems I'll be needing your help with something, my dear."

"I'm already sending you blood once a month. I send more than I should and more often than I really should," she responds, the plea evident in her words. Her morning routine is filled with iron pills and vitamins, and she's been lucky that the Petrova Fire has protected her as it has, because anyone else in a similar situation would have become ill by now. Elijah clearly hasn't been aware of this, and his lips thin with displeasure at the new knowledge. "What have you done to them?" she asks.

"Oh, absolutely nothing yet," he responds. "But I figured a little incentive might be in order."

He's tripping playfully through his words, a sign that he's in rare form and Elijah, with his heightened hearing, seems to pick up on this at the same time that she does. He gives her a warning look and she returns to him a nod of recognition; as much as she hates it she'll take a more submissive role in the conversation, and try to make no inflammatory remarks as this continues. If Klaus thinks that they're the central focus of her attention, it keeps the others from harm, she rationalizes. The fact that he's mistrusted Elijah with their keeping is a blessing.

"Your boys have been very clever – dosing themselves with vervain, building up a resistance and ensuring they're not susceptible to compulsion – but I don't think they're tolerating this amount very well. Looking a bit... peaky, if you will."

Oh, ha. That's a good one.

"What do you want?"

"_You_, darling," he drawls. "Your presence is requested at a little soiree I'm holding in Bulgaria – I'll text you the details, since you sound like you're interested in attending. Please do tell me you can make it; if you can't, though, I'm sure I can find _some_ way of entertaining myself."

She swallows, her throat dry and her voice lost, truly. If she wasn't already involved, hauling ass to an Eastern European country would be difficult. As it is, she's worried that Klaus will call his brother and tell him to do something to the Salvatores if she sounds as if she isn't making an effort to get there. "I-It's going to take me a day or two, but I'm _coming_. Just please," she breathes heavily, "don't hurt them."

"I can't make assurances of that until you and I are speaking face to face...Keep yourself hidden until the date of my party. The last thing I want is any of your friends involved in this, do I make myself clear? They are all out there, enjoying their happy little lives without you in it, and they've let their guard down, grown naive...I'd hate to have to remind them that the world can be a scary place."

She can make out the sound of heels on hard flooring, and the man on the other end of the phone greets someone. Probably his meal.

"Oh, and my brother Elijah sends his warm regards. He's been quite helpful with my preparations, so don't bother contacting him about my plans – he's already rather involved."

This is supposed to upset her, she knows. Make her feel as if the one Original that she can trust is against her as well.

"See you soon, Elena."

The call ends before she can answer.

Elijah takes the phone from her numb fingers and powers the phone off, placing it behind him on an end table before turning back to her once more.

"His largest mistake so far has been trusting me," he says quietly to her. "And we will keep it that way. So long as he continues to come to me for assistance, we can have some control. Four of those people he's threatening are under this very roof."

"And what about Jeremy? And Matt? And Ric? Tyler is at his beck and call even if he doesn't want to be. What if he goes looking for Caroline or Bonnie to use as bait? Won't it seem suspicious that they're missing?"

The fireplace seems to be flickering erratically, and it catches their attention simultaneously. Elena tries to take a calming breath because setting Elijah's house on fire wouldn't really be conducive to the 'safety' thing they are worrying over.

"For all he knows, they've left to try and find the brothers. As for the others, there are ways to ensure their protection, beyond even what the Fire will allow for, if that is what you'd like."

She dips her head, and mutters her appreciation before burying her head in her hands and exhaling heavily. "So I guess we wait, now. I'll call him over the next few days and tell him where apparently I am on my route to here, and in the meantime, we can try to get Damon and Stefan better."

"To be safe, perhaps Maggie and Bonnie should practice some defensive spells together?" he suggests. "They seem to be getting along rather well. They'd benefit from the practice."

"Practicing... we were finally up to four miles during our morning runs," she groans. "We haven't done a thing since we got here." She swipes her hands through her hair, and slumps backward. "I guess that and a morning workout will distract Maggie a little. Might be good for me, too. Might help me from freaking out about all of this"

Something sparks in his eyes and his mouth twitches with an uncontrolled smirk. "Are you in need of distraction as well, Elena?" he asks, and the arm that has been draped along the back of the loveseat slides forward enough to allow him to run a finger through the long strands of her hair with such a delicate touch she shivers.

When faced with two options like this, was there much of a choice?

His eyes seek permission that is granted and then his lips are on her own, rough, firm, and gone far too quickly. Elena is unable to stop the noise of protest that she makes when he starts to slip off of the cushions. He hovers for a moment while he is standing, bent over her in a way that his lips brush against her ear.

"Hold that thought for just one moment," he says, lowly, and she shivers. "I've got to make a few phone calls to start setting people to the task of keeping an eye on your friends."

She feels herself nodding and then she's left to herself and she can feel herself reeling over the hectic pace her life is taking right now. She's out of practice at this 'life in her hands' sort of thing and it's weird. It's hard to get the feel of, and now she's got magic on her side (when it wants to be) and only a few short days before they meet with Klaus. It's like trying to stand up on a roller coaster or something.

He returns, closes the door behind him quietly, and she twists to look at him over the back of the loveseat. He holds up his phone for a moment before tossing it onto a chair beside his bed with a careless flick.

"Consider it done; my people in Mystic Falls are all aware of their instructions and know not to get involved, but to keep an eye on them."

It gets awkward once he sits down beside her once more; it suddenly feels like one of her first date's with Matt when no one was home and they'd excitedly talked about what they would do for at least the whole week prior. When it finally came time for their 'movie date' on the couch, limbs and mouths and teeth (and Matt had braces then) were all awkward and they ended up just watching the crappy B-movie next to one another, blushing furiously and not touching.

"It's gone, isn't it?" Elijah asks when he sees the look on her face, and she can't stifle the laugh that erupts from her, because the tone of disappointment in his breathless, almost nervous tone echoes her thoughts.

"I'm sorry, I'm not laughing at you, I swear," she's quick to assure him. "I was just thinking the same thing, and really, I've never seen you look so put out and..."

He exhales and leans back. "I still feel obligated to distract you," he adds, "for now, until we get back to where we were before."

This should be horrifically awful, and she should want to melt into the floor, but since they're both experiencing it, she can't help but feel at ease. "Talk to me," she responds, resting her head along the back edge of the loveseat, becoming serious. "You've been letting me work things out, do what I need for myself, but this can't be easy on you either, Elijah."

"I've had centuries to come to terms with this choice," he retorts, as if by rote. When he looks over at her and sees her quirked eyebrow, he exhales loudly. That answer might satisfy others, but not her. "And yet I still wonder if there is anything worth redeeming in him."

"Maybe we could find another way of stopping him," she suggests, softly, but he shakes his head.

"Countless witches consulted, hours of research, and experiences personally have led me to believe it is impossible to find either a way to spare him, or reason to do so," he answers, darkly. "Finn, I know, would support my decision if involved, as for our younger siblings, well," he pauses and looks to the fireplace, seeing beyond it in his thoughts. "They will come around, in time."

Of course, 'in time' could mean centuries; if she survives this, at least she may only have to worry about two Originals out for her friends and herself. Good to know.

"I'm sorry," she mouths, but he closes his eyes and shakes his head.

There is always a quiet, a peace, to their interactions; it settles on them now, despite their ragged nerves. Her heartbeat is steady, her breathing even. This close to him she can smell the faint smell of his cologne. If there's a way to capture a moment forever, she'd want it to be this one.

Being this open with her feelings regarding something so personal is novel. Stamping out selfish thoughts or wants has been a goal of hers since her parents died, since she'd demanded to go to that party and ended up killing them (she's old enough to know that she didn't cause their deaths directly, but she also knows they'd never have been on the bridge if it wasn't for her), and admitting to herself that this is something she _wants_ feels like a step backwards.

But it feels so _good_ when he touches her (as he his now, his fingers skimming gently over the arm she has on the back of the loveseat), and it's probably all in her head, she knows, but it's giddily addictive and she finds herself moving closer to him, despite the limited distance between them already.

He seems to study the skin he touches, and while she knows it was started absentmindedly, or tentatively, the pressure of his fingertips increases slightly, the strokes longer. As if someone flipped a switch, the air seems electric and she can feel her heart in her chest and yes, when she dares to look over into Elijah's eyes, they're dark, hungry once more.

"Kiss me," she asks, demands, wishes.

Dutifully, he closes the space between them, his free hand coming up to tangle in her hair and pull her closer as she yanks at the lapel of his jacket, the need for the feel of his lips on hers hitting a high she can't neglect.

That didn't take long, getting back to this place.

The kiss is hesitant on both of their parts, initially – this is new territory and they both are afraid to venture too quickly into it – but it grows ferocious, heady. The rough feel of his tongue draws a happy sigh from her. Elena's fingers slide over the fabric of his jacket until they find his collar, seeking the flesh of his neck below. She smiles into the kiss when the skimming of her fingertips at the nape of his neck elicits an approving noise.

And that's when he pulls back. Her confusion and desire must be plainly written on her face because he presses a firm, close-mouthed, conciliatory kiss on her lips, even as he shifts his position away from her on the seat.

"Are you-," he stops when he hears just how husky his voice is (she did that, oh God, she did that to him and she's not sorry at _all),_ clears his throat, and tries again. "Are you certain that Caroline and Bonnie need to be on your list?" he asks, straightening his collar.

She barely starts to frown in response (she's still replaying that sound he just made) when logic takes a skip-jump forward and she understands. The glamor is back in place as she tries desperately to fix her hair. "Shit," she mutters. It's barely audible, but she hears Elijah's soft laugh under his breath.

The knock at the door is still too soon, she knows her lips are swollen, and while a stranger would only see the cool and calm collected version of Elijah the majority of the world sees, she can see it: she's gotten to him, and he wants to finish what they have started.

She has to turn away because the fluttering heat, low in her belly, is being instigated by looking at him and her best friends are going to expect that door to be opened and if she can't get herself under control, she's really, utterly afraid she'll literally jump Elijah. As in, cross the room and just attack him. Vampire speed be damned, he wouldn't be able to stop her if she allowed for that to play out.

Elena hears the door open as she tries to arrange herself on the cushions to try to preserve a modicum of her dignity, but when she turns and attempts to look innocently interested in who is at the door, she can see the smallest of wrinkles forming between Caroline's brows as the young woman tries to puzzle out why Maggie's friend is behind closed doors with the Original.

"How may I help you, ladies?" Elijah asks, effortlessly calm.

Bonnie opens her mouth to speak, notices Elena and trips over her words. "Uh, we were...we were coming to ask if you think we could go see Stefan and Damon."

The vampire checks his watch before answering. "I will need to see that it is safe before you visit with them. Give me a moment," he requests, then turns to Elena. "Miss Hawkins, we can finish discussing your security concerns later."

She nods and focuses all of her attention on _not_ blushing but finds it's a losing battle, then chides herself for feeling embarrassed about being caught having a private moment with Elijah. She's an adult, and, alright, there is a _definite_ age difference, but since she undaggered Elijah in the Salvatore basement she's been treated as an equal. There have been no attempts to supersede her decisions, no moments where she's been belittled. She knows she will always have limited experience when compared to him, and it makes no sense to be frustrated by that; if nothing else, she wishes that she's had more time to hear about his life.

And as much as she _personally_ cares about Caroline and Bonnie's opinions on such matters, Aimee Hawkins doesn't have to. To them, she's a recent acquaintance with shoddy powers who has promised to keep an eye on a Bennett. Elijah to Caroline is wealth and power, a reminder of what she could possibly accomplish, as well as become. She has her suspicions that Bonnie has never gotten over the fact that Elijah betrayed them at such a crucial time during the Sacrifice, and it makes sense: Bonnie has never had much of a supportive family aside from Grams. Even Abby's involvement in her life is a delicate, new feature.

Elena gets up from the couch and walks to them, because all three of them are experienced enough in dealings with vampires to understand the importance of invitations. Since they are held to them by the forces of nature, they usually desire to have the same courtesy extended to them. She's not entirely sure if it's respect or fear, but neither the witch or the vampire seem to even place a toe further than the doorway.

"I'm sorry about your friends, but it sounds like they're doing better now."

Bonnie gives her a small, polite and appreciative smile, where as Caroline continues to look anxious. "We'll see," the blond responds.

"Mags told us," Bonnie says, quietly, "about what happened when you went to see Klaus."

Elena's surprise must be very obvious because the witch explains, "When you all got back, Maggie was really upset, and her mom wanted to make sure you were okay, so we offered to just sit with her and keep her company until they got you settled."

"Thank you," she responds, sincerely, but it's obvious that Bonnie is more than empathetic and has more to say. Bonnie takes a deep breath and gives her an earnest look before continuing.

"Losing control like that can be really scary, so if you ever want to practice meditating or something, just um, just let me know, okay? You or Maggie."

"That's...wow, thank you, Bonnie."

It looks like the witch is about to say something else, but over her shoulder, Elena spies Elijah rounding the corner. Caroline whips around and waits for him to speak, expectantly.

"They are fairing much better than before," he declares, voice positive. "The dilution of the vervain they were attached to was very weak; another day in the cells and the vervain should be out of their systems; t."

Anything too strong and they'd have started to desiccate too quickly for Klaus' plans.

He fixes both the witch and the vampire with serious looks. "It is my brother's expectations that they be continually kept on vervain until Elena appears."

Caroline's bitter, suddenly tear-filled laugh can't be ignored. "Of course," she says, sarcastically.

Elijah's gaze is warning for only a second, but it's enough for Caroline to see. "Moving ahead I need your utmost cooperation to ensure their safety."

"Of course," Bonnie assures him, readily. "The last thing we want is Klaus somehow finding out about any of this."

"We don't want to hurt Elena, either," voices Caroline, sounding more than slightly defensive.

"Very well," responds Elijah solemnly. "Please exercise caution while we are down there, as we are still not sure of what my brother has compelled them to do." He turns from the pair to Elena, still in the doorway, gives her an acknowledging bow of the head, and the three are off.

She wishes she had an excuse to go down there with them, to be able to see that Damon and Stefan are healing, for her own peace of mind. Despite her best efforts she can't think of a valid reason.

It would be ridiculous to wait in his room for him to come back, displaying a sense of dependence she doesn't feel, nor want to. Plus it seems too rude to poke around his things.

She returns to her room and changes into a pair of sweats and sneakers, sticks a can of aerosolized vervain into the pocket of her sweatshirt and secures a wooden stake in the back of her pants, where she has sewn a loop of snug, elastic band expressly for this purpose. She finishes throwing her hair up in a ponytail on her way to the door. Feeling jittery, it seems a good plan to for a run and scope out a safe path for her and Maggie to take if they decide to do this later. Elena has barely cleared the gates at a starting trot when the girl in question texts her on her normal cell.

_Where r u?_

Not that she wants to try to infer a lot from ten characters on her screen, but the text is informal and she takes that to be a good sign. After texting back that she's on her way, she quickly returns to the house, and before climbing it, peeks her head around the back of the grand staircase that leads to Elijah's wing and conceals the basement's entrance; the door is still open, a sign that they're probably still down there. She starts the climb upward.

"Bonnie texted me that she and Caroline were going to the basement with Elijah, and I looked all over for you," chides Maggie as soon as Elena steps onto the landing. The girl is sitting against the closed door of Elena's room, arms crossed. Her annoyance is only minor, but the older girls sees

she's trying to press onward and away from the awkward discussion from earlier. It's like a weight on Elena's shoulders lifts; she doesn't see her as a monster.

"I was _this_ close-" Maggie squints and holds up her pointer and thumb finger with barely a space between them "-to doing a locator spell, Aims. And you know I could, we share blood so it's like, super easy. You worried me."

"I went out for a run," Elena explains, slightly winded from relief and her sprint back in and up the stairs. Man, she's let herself go. She's eager to get back to normal, as well, so she plays along. "I was thinking it would be good if we get back to our routine, maybe see if Caroline and Bonnie want to come with. Bonnie said she'd practice with us, too."

"Oh cool." Typically, Maggie would be excited about something like this – outside of the four wall of the Bennett-LaForte house, they didn't know many witches – but there's no enthusiasm to her words. Elena frowns.

"What's wrong, Mags?"

The girl sighs, clasping her hands together but quickly devolving into knotting the fingers nervously. "Those vampires in the basement, Klaus had them for a while, right?"

"Possibly," she answers, slowly, knowing where this is headed. "You want to go ask them about Lucy?"

"Mama said 'no', but she's still sleeping and...and I was hoping you'd go down there with me." When she sees her friend start to protest, she leans forward and grabs her arms, giving her an anxious, wide-eyed look. "Please? If you're with me, I know I'm safe. I just...I want to make sure that Klaus wasn't lying when he said he's treating her well."

Elena opens her mouth but stops. Part of her is happy to see that Maggie still trusts her. Another part is teetering between sad and approving that she's suspicious of Klaus. No matter what happens from here on out, at least Elena can take comfort in the fact that she's trying to be cautious.

It's fine if Maggie grows up as long as she doesn't grow weary.

She swallows and blinks back at the stinging in her eyes. "Sure," she answers, and holds out her hand to help her friend off of the floor.

Maggie doesn't flinch before she takes it.


	14. Darkness It Descends

Chapter title from 'Darkness Descends' by Laura Marling.

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><p><strong>T<strong>he basement has a lingering chill; it gradually clings to them as they start to descend the old stone steps. The overhead, harsh lighting is the kind found more often in garages and seems at odds with the ancient foundations of the manor, and their entrance is announced by the sound of their feet scraping along the steps.

She feels like an intruder when she sees Caroline and Stefan; they're pressed as close as the bars will allow, and Elena can see Stefan's daylight ring in Caroline's opened palm. Her cheeks are tear-stained but the devotion and fear in her eyes...it's mirrored in Stefan's. While Caroline turns her face away from Elena's view, Stefan looks up at the two strangers.

"I'm sorry, we didn't mean to interrupt," says Elena with an embarrassed expression, "we were just-"

"Oh no, come on down. These two have had no regard for the fact that I'm in here, too. The more the merrier." Damon's voice is loud and facetiously cheerful.

Bonnie, seated on the bottom step, sighs heavily.

Damon is seated in the far corner of his cell, as far away from Stefan and Caroline as he can be in the small cell, his back in the corner on the narrow cot. Elena feels herself starting to be riled by his mood – she'd learned to prepare herself for this sort of behavior, because it took a quick tongue and a tougher skin to handle him – but tries not to let it show.

"We can come back later," she addresses Stefan and Caroline, apologetic, distant, and polite; the blond vampire has sniffed and wiped at her face with failed discretion and has now pasted a smile on.

"It's...it's okay, guys," she says. "Bonnie and I were just um, just leaving. Hope those blood bags are okay guys."

What follows are probably the most awkward and strained introductions made. Ever. Caroline picks herself off of the ground afterward, but it's still obvious she doesn't want to hold onto Stefan's ring. He picks up on the same thing.

Crossing his arms, and jutting his chin in its direction, he says, vaguely to Caroline (but still so tender and kind – there's so much care between them it makes her marvel): "Just please hold onto that for now, Care."

She nods, a little too vehemently, and when she goes to kiss the younger Salvatore brother, Damon loudly scoffs in his cell.

Caroline blurs past them, Bonnie following behind, and suddenly the four left in the basement are all shifting around, nervous, unsure.

"Maggie and I wanted to ask some questions of you," Elena explains. "And then we'll leave you be."

"Not sure how much we can tell you. We may have been compelled before the vervain," warns Stefan.

"It's worth a shot," Elena responds.

"Did you hear my brother? Compulsion?" There's rustling to their left and Damon appears at the bars of his cell. "That means we-"

"-I _know_ what it means," snaps Elena, unable to stop the defensive retort. "And I also know what it looks and sounds like when a vampire tries to answer questions they've been compelled to not answer; the fact that you could tell me you were _possibly_ compelled is a good sign you weren't."

She's now aware of the fact that her arms are crossed and her hip is jutted: typical 'Deal with Damon' stance for Elena Gilbert. She can't get caught up in that; it's usually more destructive than anything else, and she can't let on to them who she is. Particularly Damon.

She lets herself back down from a defiant glaring contest with Damon, tucks her hair behind her ear nervously, and bumps Maggie's shoulder with her own. "Go for it, Mags."

The Bennett girl, emboldened after a quick, reassuring look over at her friend, starts to ask them questions. Simple ones about her mother, about a woman who _looks_ like her mother...any way she can think to ask them about Lucy.

Elena takes a stab at it but both brothers are drawing blanks. Elena and Maggie settle on the dirt floor between the two cells as it continues. Neither brother shows signs of being compelled to _not_ talk about something, which is a good sign, but they won't know for certain until Elijah tries to break through the compulsion with his own questions.

Stefan explains that they were both overpowered by hybrids ('fuckin hybrids' enthuses Damon) in their home, and that it was Tyler, clearly compelled by Klaus, who had transported them to Europe. From there, they weren't sure of much, as that was when Klaus had them injected with vervain, but that's all they can remember.

They were disoriented, but they think they were kept in a bar (probably the Twilight fiasco, Elena thinks) in a basement, judging from the noise overhead, and the next thing they can fully remember was waking here in the basement.

As the conversation continues, Elena does pick up on something that bothers her though, and it's that Damon is restless; that's never a good thing. She can practically hear the gears clicking in his head as he tries to think of a plan to keep her safe – Bonnie's presence in the house is probably now known to him from conversation with Caroline. It will only be a matter of time before he's scheming away and risking his life and that of anyone else he thinks might help save her.

He'd always choose her, and that's the problem. There could be times where that isn't the right choice.

When it's obvious that Maggie has grown frustrated by their lack of help, and there's a glimmer of impish light in Damon's eyes that signals he only has to push a few buttons to possibly trigger a reaction from the witch (a way to test her and her power, she knows), Elena says that it's time to head back up.

She has Maggie proceed ahead of her. Damon likes to have the last word, and she'd rather be the one to hear it; knowing her luck, he'd ask Maggie to turn herself over to Klaus in exchange for Elena's safety.

"Aimee," he calls, and she turns back around, still on the stairs. Stefan is shooting his brother a admonitory look, which he ignores.

"Experience or not, this is _Klaus_ we're talking about. The hybrid Original. He's not your farm variety vampire, alright? Bennett or not, if he wants your friend, he'll take her."

"I'm sure she knows his intentions, Damon," Stefan says quickly, trying to mediate.

"Whether she knows it or not, she's a kid. Caroline said she can't really control her powers unless it comes to setting people on fire – fun trick, by the way – but he's smarter than you, and he's more evil than you could possibly imagine."

Elena walks back down the few steps she'd previously climbed. She knows why he's doing this; he's trying to plant that seed of doubt in their minds, possibly to help to overturn their confidence that they can win against Klaus. Struggling but failing in a fight against Klaus or any of those he employs to take Maggie would be the perfect distraction to allow for Damon to try to do _something_ to save her.

"Whose side are you on?" she asks, exasperated.

"Elena's," he responds quickly.

"Well, I'm on Maggie's side and really, at the end of the day, we're all against Klaus," she counters. "Whether you have faith in my ability to protect Maggie or not doesn't really matter."

She gives Stefan a small wave and a little smile; when he's not a ripper he's fairly evenly tempered, and she can appreciate that right now. "I think Elijah said he'd be down to check on you two later. Enjoy your lunch."

She's almost to the top step when Damon shouts "You're out of your depth!" after her.

_No_, she thinks, as she closes the door with a little more force than necessary,_ I'm finally back in it, and better equipped this time around_.

Lunch won't be served for another hour or so, and a quick check of the rooms reveals that they're both empty. Maggie left a note on Elena's door stating that she was visiting on the Krall's side to help with lunch (Mr. Krall's son is in his early 20s and studies archeology at a local university – the fact that he's well-built probably didn't escape Maggie's eye either). Bree is not in her room (they need those wipe erase boards people use in college, Elena thinks), but when she passes the library, she finds her nose-deep in old books, and her laptop beside her where she sits on the floor.

She returns to her room, thinking that going through her weapons bag will be a good way to deal with the leftover frustration from her interactions in the basement. Making sure they are ready for later, when she plans on showing Maggie how to use some of them seems like a great idea (she totally knows she lying to herself – they're pristine and in perfectly working order, save for the tricky safety on the one crossbow).

Her familiarity with the weapons should be upsetting – truth be told, until being taught by Alaric how to handle vampire hunting weapons, hunting equipment had always bothered her. Matt's father had left a great deal of hunting gear (old, battered, and broken things) behind, but when Matt was in his early teens, he took it upon himself to start fixing them up. It bothered her, when he started to excitedly talk about going into the woods with his mother's current boyfriend to practice shooting, but Mystic Fall's heavily established hunting community was something they'd all been exposed to from an early age. In their early days of dating, he'd invited her out into the woods with him, too. The deer's sudden collapse after being shot, and its stare, glassy-eyed, triggered Elena turning to the side and getting sick, and Matt never asked her to go hunting with him again. He continued to go, and was a good shot, she knew, but she never went again.

Elena removes a few telling items from the bag that Bonnie or Caroline might recognize, and stores them in the closet, hidden in the bottom of a cabinet. The rest she leaves in the duffel and places it beside the door. Really, worrying about them seeing the items isn't necessary; they're kind of on house arrest until this is over. Should Klaus or any of his lackeys see them at Elijah's, there would be suspicion.

With nothing else to do, she throws herself on the bed in a fit of immature pique and decides that it's time to think over what happened. Elijah probably heard that whole conversation in the basement, she knows. The fact that he wasn't waiting at the top of the stairs, or didn't intervene, is actually something she appreciates. Just because she's admitted to having feelings for him doesn't mean she suddenly can't handle things like this on her own.

When she left two years ago, she finally got to grieve the loss of her parents – all of them – and Jenna. While the three women had thought she was still just adjusting to being in their home, she'd really been allowing herself to cry, to be angry, to be sad...all the things she didn't have a chance to do before. At the end of all of it she felt better, felt a little healed, and had gained a better perspective.

What she went through, and what she had accomplished with that time, was something only she could do for herself. There were a few times at first where she wanted to just call Damon, or Stefan, or any of her friends – make them help her, take over and let her stay in that state of numb. Sorrow was something easy to drink in and drown.

One for sorrow...it reminds her of Damon and the crow that she'd seen when he first came back to Mystic Falls. To spend 145 years grieving seemed the worst sort of torture imaginable, now. He was miserable, but he wanted to be better...maybe that was what he saw in her. But now, more than ever, she knew she could not be the one to fix him, to save him. Maybe when this is done, she'd be able to talk to him about it.

She wasn't a savior for the Salvatores.

Elena's head hurts; thinking about this is complicated and necessary but she doesn't need to dwell, and it's time enough for lunch.

Maggie comes out of the kitchen, bright-eyed and flushed, and when Elena quips an eyebrow she mutters something about the oven being pretty hot, Elena can't help but roll her eyes and laugh. The girl is in high spirits and she's excited about working with Bonnie after lunch and Elena's work with her. Caroline is still slightly sullen, worried about her boyfriend in the basement, and quickly dismisses herself to go check on him.

A quick change into athletic clothes, and she and Maggie go out to the side of the garden on the inside of the fence; against a shed are some bales of hay. A quick search reveals some watering cans, and Elena stacks the bales and cans to resemble a very rectangular, very oddly-shaped, trio of people-like...things. Not her best work but she's got limited supplies for the moment.

When Elena announces that she wants to teach Maggie how to use the weapons that she's placed on a weather-worn patio table that was scrounged up by Mr. Krall, the Bennett witch looks at the equipment with the same anxiety Elena remembers feeling upon seeing Matt's restored gear. The only difference here is that Maggie already knows what type of damage she's capable of, so this shouldn't change her opinion of her too much.

The truth is, Elena is worried that if something happens to her, neither Lucy nor Bree will ever truly allow their daughter to learn how to protect herself. She needs to make sure Maggie knows how to use these weapons – things she's never touched before – in case something happens that keeps her from using her magic.

The decision to start with the crossbow is an easy one; it's one of the more hands-off pieces of equipment they have, and keeps Maggie at a safe distance away from an attacker. The knife and the vervain grenade can come later. It's all kind of going behind Bree and Lucy's backs, but they asked for their daughter to be protected, and this is a way of ensuring it.

The tutorial is quick, but thorough. Elena stresses that the safety stays on, until the last moment; while she never knew of one of her friends accidentally getting shot with one of the slender wooden stakes they use, it doesn't hurt to be cautious.

When Maggie starts to bring the crossbow up and drop her head to use the sight, Elena stops her. It's important she have a good sense of aim when seconds count, and when focusing on using the cross-hairs in the sight could cause her to be less than aware of her surroundings.

The uncertainty that Maggie is feeling is obvious in the drawn tension of her shoulders, every-so-slowly starting to creep upwards, and the lip that's being pulled between her teeth with increasing frequency. Elena sees the visible clouds of exhalation from her friend at intervals too far apart, and she realizes she needs to intervene.

"It's going to take time to learn, but you'll get it," Elena promises her. She takes the bow from the girl and demonstrates a good shot with barely a moment to account for wind.

"But your magic protects me," Maggie says, awkwardly as she watches; they never refer to it by its proper name around her, in case she gets curious enough to research it. "If I've got that, why would I need to know this?"

Elena pauses in the middle of trying to hand her the crossbow, her mouth open. "I'd feel better if you knew how to, okay? And I don't think my magic would protect your parents as well."

It feels manipulative, playing that card, but it's the truth and Maggie's so quick to react to the potentiality of harm to her parents that she forgets about her friend's suddenly apparent anxiety about the future. Eagerly, she takes the crossbow. Elena watches the girl's arms drop with the unfamiliar weight, and feels guilt, quick and clenching in her gut, as she understands what's she's teaching the girl.

She pushes it aside as they focus on the hay bales.

Maggie fires all of the stake-like arrows that they have into the hay bales, adjusting to the feel of the crossbow. By the end of the twelve or so shots, she's getting better, gaining some confidence. Despite Elena telling her otherwise, she keeps her arms locked, muscles far too tense, so that way she doesn't drop the proper angle she's finally achieved.

"Good!" Elena praises her, and jogs over to the target. The last four have sunk into the bales quite nicely. She turns to Maggie to show her this, Vanna White-style.

Maggie starts to give her an accomplished smile, but the sound of the kitchen door being opened draws her attention back to the house, her head turning with a jerk.

At that moment Elena realizes she's given Maggie the wrong crossbow, but then the arrow is already lodged in her abdomen before she can caution her to lower the thing.

The pain is delayed; shock at being shot, and also at being _able_ to be shot, fortunately creates a numbness in her.

Again, and horribly, she hears the sound of Maggie's scream.

Elijah is suddenly in front of her, filling her vision, but she struggles to see around him to Maggie.

"She's fine," he says and the world is shifting.

"No, no she's not," she argues. If she can get shot, then Maggie can get shot...what happened to the Petrova Fire? She can't see around Elijah.

It's only evident that she's on the ground and leaning against a hay bale when she starts to puzzle out how he's leaning over to the degree that he is. He's on his knees, and he's got her sitting up with an arm braced around her back.

"Please?" he asks her, his eyes not leaving hers, but sounding breathless and she frowns for a second before understanding and nodding. The blood. His blood. He knows her thoughts on this but she's pretty sure she'll live as long as she's healed.

"Margaret, I need your help, quickly please," he calls, and Maggie stumbles over, her face the very image of horror.

"Aims, Aims I didn't mean to, I didn't listen-"

"After I start to feed her my blood, you need to pull the arrow out," he instructs. "Before that and she might bleed out. Do you understand, Margaret?"

"Y-yes. Yeah." Margaret forces herself to tear her eyes away from Elijah, stuck on what he was about to do, and pays attention to her job.

He bites neatly into his wrist and offers it to Elena, and for the first time in two years she tastes blood, thick and coppery and dark. The pain of the arrow being removed from her stomach is overpowered by just how quickly his blood heals – it must have something to do with how old he is.

Dropping the stake, Maggie's bloody hands wrap around one of Elena's and it's a sort of tether when for a brief second she's lightheaded. With her eyes closed, she follows the vampire's gentle instructions to breath, and does so slowly.

Only then does fear flood her system. If she can get shot, then the Petrova Fire might not be working...what if she exhausted it protecting Elijah? What if Maggie sits beside her now, exposed?

Despite his well-intentioned murmurs to relax, relaxation is the last thing on her mind.

The second she can, she's on her way to Bree to look for answers.


	15. Unfold Me

Chapter title from 'Breathe Me' by Sia (cliched and cheesy, I know, but hush).**  
><strong>

This chapter was set to be posted yesterday, but I've sort of been busy running around grinning like an idiot because I finally heard back on the marketing/PR position I interviewed for and they offered me the job. :D Excuse me while I die from utter happiness.

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><p><strong>T<strong>hree minutes and she's healed entirely. The skin that is revealed by the hole now in her shirt and fleece zipup is smooth and blemish free. She lifts them both to show Maggie.

"Look. See? I'm okay, Mags," she assures her as Elijah helps her to stand on legs still weak. "I'm the one that gave you the crossbow with the tricky safety, I should have-"

"I never put it back on like you said to do!" the Bennett witch argues as they walk back towards the house (Elijah stays close to Elena's side, and at one point when her knee starts to give out – she's still a little dizzy – he keeps Maggie from noticing and Elena from falling with a sudden hand on her back as support). "I got distracted and I was all tense and-"

"Mags, I'm fine, and I know you won't do it again. We'll just consider this one of those real-life examples of weapon safety, okay?" Adrenaline is starting to kick in; the ghost sensation of pain is flooded out of her system by it and she's feeling jittery and wants to get inside to consult with Bree.

Maggie, still a little green and stricken looking, casts a sidelong glance in her direction. "You want me to come with you when you tell Mama about how badly I messed up?" she asks, miserable. "How could I even _do_ that, I thought you said you couldn't get hurt."

It's not her that messed up. It's Elena.

It was the first time Maggie saw a vampire feed someone their blood, and even though they have talked about it, witnessing it firsthand has got the girl spooked. She also seems afraid to stand too close to Elena, as if she's a walking time bomb, as if she's already turned.

Elena's plan is to figure out what is going on, and then hopefully fix this.

"No, no Mags, don't worry about it, seriously. I'm going to go talk to her and we'll..." she trails off as she fights back the wave of nausea she feels over all of this. Jeremy and Alaric and Matt and Tyler are out there possibly unprotected. If the Petrova Fire isn't working, Damon could hurt Mags. "We'll be fine. Can you tell Bonnie that I'm sorry I can't make it this afternoon?" She hasn't been enthusiastic about the need to use her magic around Bonnie, anyway.

Maggie nods, appreciation and relief shining in her eyes. "I'll make up something. I know you don't want them to know."

Elena goes to put a hand on her friend's shoulder, but notices the blood on it, and sees the mess on Maggie's too. "Thank you...Wash up first, though."

A quick glance down at her hands and Maggie runs off to do that.

Elena quickly rinses her hands off in a bathroom on the first floor while Elijah leans against the doorway. The only way she can tell he's just as anxious to start fixing the problem is the fact that he shifts from resting his weight from one leg to the other, and he checks the buttons on his suit.

"Thank you," she says quietly, making eye contact with him in the mirror. "For healing me."

"It is nothing," he responds, dismissive and distracted. "I saw the arrow coming towards you and while my first instinct was to come, I incorrectly assumed your...gift, it would stop it. I am sorry for not getting there sooner."

She shakes her head. "I was counting on the same thing, to be honest. I've felt fine, it still feels like it normally does; I just figured everything was normal." Elena breaks eye contact to find the fluffy hand towel where it rests on an ornate hook and reaches for it.

"I know you do not wish to become a vampire," he says quietly. "I'll see to it that your wishes are maintained, if you still desire the same."

She puts the towel down and turns to him. Becoming a vampire would have saved them so much pain and heartache, but even back then he had been willing to give her another option during the sacrifice. Now, it would only cause problems; she has no idea how well her friends and family are protected, but to lose that possibility of having a way to keep them safe, when Klaus is actively out to lure her in, is something she can't think about. "Thank you," she murmurs.

"I wanted to ask you before I send for them: there are two guards that I trust to guard the house; would you like me to call for them? I unfortunately will have to leave for a meeting with Klaus."

She hates feeling useless...not useless, really, but compromised. "Yeah, having them around would be good."

Their fingers brush and tangle momentarily as she passes him at the door, and then the Original and Aimee Hawkins can be seen traveling to the study with a slightly less than appropriate amount of space between them.

Bree is in the library, but when they ask her to follow them, she joins them in Elena's room and they take the necessary precautions to ensure their conversation remains private.

Elena explains what happened, and Bree's reaction is instantaneous. Instead of becoming as confused and scared as Elena herself feels, the bartender buries her head in her hands. "I was hoping I was wrong, I told Lucy that, but she thought I was reading into it too much back then and oh God, I was right."

"Fill me in, here, Bree," she begs, too scared to currently be upset they've kept something from her. "If that happened to me it could happen to Maggie and-"

"-You can't protect yourself from yourself, Elena. The bond sees you two as the same person. You shared blood." To the side of Elena's chair, Elijah, with his arm resting on the top of the seat, tenses as Elena herself processes what this means. "You shared blood because it makes the protection stronger, but it also means you could...and she..." Bree trails off, staring blankly, despairingly, at the open air in front of her. "This is _bad_. Shit."

"Why didn't you think to tell me this earlier, Bree?" Elena doesn't mean to sound accusing, but she's feeling slightly betrayed. "How did you know I wouldn't do something that could hurt her?"

"She's the only one you share blood with like that," Bree answers, and it's obvious her heart is heavy as she continues to understand the implications. "We knew you'd never do anything to hurt her, and we figured the Fire would keep you both safe and out of any sort of situation where there was even the possibility of something like that happening. This was part of the reason we were so adamant about you _not_ teaching Maggie how to use weapons. Too much of a risk involved."

"Margaret is _not_ the only one she has shared blood with. Elena's brother, Jeremy, he is your biological cousin, correct?" Elijah has moved to stand in front of the fireplace, and while it seems a casual move, it's the equivalent of frenzied pacing in anyone else. "To a lesser extent, he shares blood with you."

Elena nods, and Bree's own anguish is momentarily forgotten as she looks at Elena, incredulous. "What? I totally get that it's weird, but I told you my family was complicated, Bree," Elena says, defensively. "Elijah has a point though...maybe I did the actual spell with Mags, but if he's correct, anyone from before that who shares blood with me, they're considered 'me', right?"

Bree thinks it over for a second and then, to Elena's dismay, answers her. "Yes."

"If that's the case, then Damon and Stefan share blood with me, too."

Bree's distaste is obvious, but Elijah is on to the next step. "And what of your hybrid friend, Tyler? He needed your blood to complete the transformation."

"I never had _his_, though."

"So Damon, Stefan, and Maggie," lists Bree, ticking them off on her fingers. "Possibly Jeremy."

Elena know Caroline has never had her blood, nor has she had to feed her. Bonnie is out of the question as well. Alaric's blood has been on her hands in more ways than one, but he's never had hers. The only person left is...

"Matt. Matt shares blood with me," she says, quietly.

Elijah's eyebrow twitches only slightly.

Elena sighs and closes her eyes, the memory from nearly two decades ago hazy but definite. "One of his mom's boyfriends was thinking of moving with them out of Mystic Falls, and Mattie was afraid we'd never see one another again. We'd just seen some movie – I can't even remember what it was, but we definitely weren't supposed to see it – and two of the characters in it cut their palms and put them together and...we copied it. So we would always be with each other."

The hurt in Matt's eyes when she left Mystic Falls was a lot like the hurt she'd seen in them when they were kids. Elena's throat is tight with emotion, but she struggles to clear it before talking again. "Matt is a definite on that list."

Elena crosses her arms and draws her legs up in the seat before continuing. "So that's four, maybe five people. They're all protected from anyone else, but I could harm them and they can harm me?"

"If we're correct, yeah," Bree answers, brusquely. "And I'm not about to risk my baby's safety to find out if they can hurt one another."

Which was exactly what she fears.

"Let us assume that is the case," Elijah says, evenly. "Damon and Stefan are down in the cells, and will remain there. I will also keep close watch of Maggie."

Damon's compulsive and short-sighted plans might involve Maggie, and they can't risk it. Stefan might respect Maggie, but Elena wasn't about to rule out the potential for him to try to negotiate with Klaus, using the Bennett witch as a trade for guaranteed safety.

Bree pushes on the arms of the chair and stands. "I'm going to go explain some of this to Maggie; we've got to let her know about this – without mentioning about Damon or Stefan – so she knows to be careful." Bree is almost to the door when she turns around, and fixes the vampire with a firm glare. "Speaking of caution: Elijah, I expect you to be watching over Elena until your blood is out of her system."

"I already discussed this with Elena and assured her she will remain human," he responds smoothly, turning to make eye contact with Elena. "Two guards have been stationed on the premises, but they are not to interfere with any of you. Their orders are strict and they understand that I do not wish for you to be disturbed by them."

"Good enough," responds Bree, who points a warning finger at Elena and says "Stay away from stairs and open windows and pointy objects" and she is gone.

The bartender's maternal streak makes sudden and inexplicable appearances, but Elena is thankful for them. Once the door is shut again, she leans forward and runs her hands through her hair. "I don't even know where to begin with how _bad_ this is."

"The Salvatore brothers have survived two years in Mystic Falls in this condition, and if they haven't managed to kill one another, it's a good sign; I've already dispatched people to watch over those left in Mystic Falls. We shall be cautious moving forward, but this does not change the final goal."

Elena takes the hand he offers, and is more than surprised when as soon as she is standing, his free arm is draped over her shoulder and she is pressed forward, into an embrace. Surprised by the action, she remains stiff in his arms.

"Are you hugging me?" she asks, incredulous, into his chest.

"People do so when they wish to comfort," he responds as he draws back, suddenly perfectly postured and watching her for signs of trouble. "Forgive me for-"

Elena shakes her head. "No, no it's good, don't even start to apologize, I just...it was unexpected. Not something we've really done before."

"At least in our privacy, with your permission of course, I could be demonstrative of affection."

She laughs a little, and moves to close the distance between them. She wraps her arms around his torso and sighs as his arms hold her close and she inhales the scent of him; she's got no idea _what_ it is that he smells like (it reminds her of the woods, though, and smoke), but she likes it. "I could get used to this," she says with a sigh.

"I would not be adverse to that."

All there is is the noise of her breathing, her heartbeat, and the crackling fire. It should be disconcerting to be holding on to someone so silent, but it's a nice respite from her own jumbled, panicked thoughts.

There is nothing sexual about it, nothing truly passionate, but the intimacy of their embrace seems like a puzzle piece that she's been missing. And she doesn't want to give it up.

He'd never go for it, she thinks, trying to dismiss the thought starting to grow in her mind. It might not even work.

"I hate to say this, but I have to meet with Klaus, and I will not be back until very late tonight." He steps away from her, the arms that had been encircling her now gently brushing down her forearms. "But I will see you tomorrow in the morning."

It's a languid, lingering kiss, and Elena's reaction to it is like her reaction to any of their other kisses; it leaves her wanting more. "Be safe," she requests as he moves past her for the door.

Elijah gives her a meaningful look. "You as well."

Dinner is a lighthearted affair. Maggie has finally been convinced that her best friend is fine and holds no hard feelings towards her, and Bonnie is still giddily happy from finding a fellow witch of similar powers to practice with. Caroline's sunny smile is obvious from the other side of the room – Stefan and Damon are on the mend and tomorrow, Elijah will attempt to see if they have been compelled.

Bree has locked herself behind closed doors – no doubt seeing if there is a way to alter the bond or the Fire – so the younger women are given free run of the wing, and decide to watch a movie in the entertainment room. It's carefree and fun and Elena finds herself laughing more than she has in a while.

But it doesn't keep Elena from mulling over her thoughts from earlier; she's going to ask Elijah to take some of her blood. He'll probably protest, it might not even work, but at least she wants to _try. _

He's better than protected as is, but if it comes down to it, she needs to make sure there is someone who knows and respects her backup plan. No Doppelganger? No spell. Her death would mean that the others would not be protected, but Klaus would have no valid reason to try to use Maggie for the Resurrection. Granted, she wouldn't put petty revenge past the hybrid, but if it were to boil down to that, she knows that there are enough people aside from herself who would be willing to protect her.

But that would mean someone would have to kill Elena. As much as the thought terrifies her, she'll do it herself if she needs to. Seeing as the last Petrova Doppelganger took her own life, though, Klaus might be prepared for that. Having Elijah on her side for this is, regrettably, a fail-safe.

When the movie is finished and they all return to their rooms, Elijah is knocking on the door before she even finishes brushing her teeth, and she answers it, toothbrush in hand.

He seems taken aback, at first, that she appears to be foaming at the mouth, but when she holds up the toothbrush in lieu of an explanation, he tries to stifle a smile. "I saw the lights on in your room."

She opens the door farther to allow him in, then returns to the bathroom to finish brushing. "We just finished watching a movie and I had popcorn in my teeth," she explains. She is a little relieved that she hadn't changed into pajamas yet, merely kicking off her flats to flex her toes in the carpet. She peeks around the corner.

Elijah has removed his coat, and draped it over the back of the chair he is sitting in, watching the fireplace. From the crease between his brows, and the shape of his mouth, in addition to his early return, she can't imagine it went the way he planned.

When she pads, barefoot, over to him, he turns his head from the fire, tilting it upward to study her face. She wants so very much to soothe his frown, and before she is truly aware of her own actions, she has started to run a hand through his hair, to trace the frown line as if to erase it with the pad of her thumb. Under her ministrations, he closes his eyes.

"Tell me," she prompts.

His voice is low-pitched, private. "He happily listened to me confirm that Tatia's remains are secured for the Resurrection, and in turn, he told me that you were nearby. He does not suspect me of doing anything more than playing the part of the eagerly helpful brother-henchman who continues to pine for the Doppelganger. His lack of doubt is...disconcerting."

"Is your sister still with him?" He would worry about her, she knows.

He shakes his head. "No, no he has apparently sent her away, for her safety, he says. Klaus worries someone would try to use her as a bargaining chip against him. His typical move would be to dagger her, but I suppose we shall see."

Warm brown eyes are open and regarding her once more, and his gaze drops to her stomach, which is only slightly lower than eye level where he sits in the chair. A gentle hand comes to rest on her hip as he asks: "And what of your wound, Elena?"

When he starts to try to retract his hand, she catches it and keeps it on her hip; the pressure of his hand there seems to generate a deep, fantastic, sparkling burn, and she is enjoying it too much for it to stop. When he makes eye contact with her once more, her mouth goes dry at the his eyes, dark with a human want she could easily assist with. "I-fine. It's fine," she stumbles over her words as his fingers start to curl slightly, and pull her closer. "Good as new, thanks to you."

"Glad to hear."

Okay, she could easily just climb into his lap at the moment, kiss his full lips as she wants to, and draw her fingers through his hair once more before starting to tug his tie off, but she reigns her suddenly peaking lust in and swallows thickly.

"I have something for you," he declares suddenly, and his hand is now gone from her hip, disappearing into his pocket. A closed fist is raised for inspection, and when he opens it, cupped, a handful of thick, wooden bullets sit in his palm. "They arrived from England this morning, and I have a small crossbow that will fire them."

The severity of his expression can mean only one thing.

"But if he's mortal, would we really need-"she starts to ask, then shifts from one foot to the other and gives him a nod. "I can't see it coming to that, Elijah," she says with a hush, because having to kill him is the _last_ thing she wants to do. Regardless, she takes the bullets and takes them over to a trinket box on the mantle for the time being.

"Nor I, but I want to ensure that you have the means to protect your friends, no matter what. My brother's abilities as a hybrid give him a physical advantage over me; we have never tried to compel one another but I would not say it is outside of the realm of possibilities. "

At least they're on the same page then, and she feels a little better about the offer she'll be giving him. She's been racking her brain for a way to say it that's tactful, but she knows she'll never have Elijah's way with words, and instead goes hurtling headfirst into it.

"I want you to take my blood."

She's just turned around as she says it, but she doesn't miss the sight of Elijah's entire body becoming eerily still. Is he waiting for her to back down?

He knows her better than that.

His silence invokes a need to add "I'm not sure if it will work exactly like the others but...we could hope for the best."

His mouth parts, only the slightest of spaces between his lips (she's kissed them how many times now? She's lost count and it will never be enough), inhales slowly and then says "Elena, you do not need to feel obligated to reciprocate my-"

"I don't. Really," she quickly assures him. "I was thinking it over, after Bree talked with us." She licks her lips, and finds that she needs to weave her fingers together in front of her to keep her hands from nervously moving around. "You...you understand," she explains and jerks her head in the direction of the bullets, "you get why I'm willing to do what I'll do, and the others...I love them, and I trust them with my _life,_ but not..."

But not her death. He nods, quickly, obviously aware of how uncomfortable this is for her. She looks down at the carpet and sighs. This isn't something he wants to do, just as much as she doesn't want to have to hurt him or kill him in the process of killing his brother. "It's kind of selfish, I guess, when you think about it."

When she looks up, his head is tilted slightly, and there is something so pensive and different about his expression that her shame is exchanged for curiosity. She frowns as she asks: "What is it?".

"You," he responds, as he rises from the chair, and he says the word as if it's an answer to any and all the questions she could ask him. He puts a hand on her cheek, after brushing it through the hair that frames her face. "You are exquisite, and you cannot imagine how incredible you are – I only wish there was but a way to show you. Katherine and her fierce sense of self-preservation, Tatia, despite her kind heart...they could never compare to you. I have known them, have known of the others, but those aspects of them that I regarded so highly...they are but tiny facets of your character, your honor. You outshine them without trying or desiring to do so."

Her throat feels constricted, as she looks up at him, at the emotions that play on his face. She can't think of a single person who deserves to be regarded with such high esteem. But she knows how much she admires aspects of who he is that he cannot even see, or chooses to see, and thinks that maybe this isn't so bad, the two of them believing better of the other than they can recognize in their selves.

The lips she could not help but focus on before are brushing over hers as soon as she starts to raise herself to close the distance. Soon it's tongues and teeth and fingers and she tries to draw herself closer to him as her nails scrape at the material of the back of his shirt. It takes but half a second of consideration for her to decide (although she's operating mostly on instinct) to press her hips forward and against his.

Instantly, he breaks their kiss, but his hands clutch at her hips; they're so synchronized, so very much aware of what the other wants and she has her proof in spades in their current position. "If this is what you want, Elena," he rasps, his breath fanning out on her neck as he kisses his way down it. "If you are-"

"You know I am," she cuts him off, kissing him again, firmly. "I want you to have my blood a-and," she has to stop to swallow, to breathe, because the next part she wants to say as firmly as possible. Serious brown eyes meet serious brown eyes. "I want _you_."

It's like a switch is flipped for both of them. "I want you to watch," he says, his lips brushing over hers still as he back them towards the dresser and the mirror there. Her pulse is throbbing in her ears.

They stand before the mirror, her back pressed into his chest, and make eye contact in the mirror as the veins beneath his eyes darken. Her arm covers his arm wrapped about her waist, and his other rests on her shoulders.

She tilts her head to the side and leaves her neck exposed and vulnerable, her ultimate decision and admission, and watches him as he lowers his head to her neck.


	16. My Breath Weighs More Than I Think

Chapter title from 'Argue with Heaven' because David Ramirez's lyrics are perfect.

* * *

><p><strong>S<strong>unlight, weak but increasing in light and warmth, sneaks into the room, crosses the floor and pools on white sheets and bare skin. Elena's eyes open slowly, alertness sudden as it always is for her in the morning. Instead of her typical view of a landscape of predominantly undisturbed sheets on the other side of the bed, there are the firm and well muscled planes of Elijah's body.

Definitely a positive change in view.

The sheets lay somewhere at the bottom of the bed, a wrinkled mess, but the white duvet was, as she recalls, lazily pulled over both of them by Elijah at some point last night.

Technically, it was this morning.

She takes a long deep breath that tumbles back out as a satisfied sigh. She can't remember the last time she woke up in her own skin, and to have Elijah's against her own in the process – her leg thrown over his, an arm about his torso, his hands on her hip and in her hair – is adding to the hedonistic experience.

She knows he's awake when he takes a breath – the only reason he'd need to is to speak. "How long would you like for me to continue to feign sleeping?" His voice rumbles through his chest, and she feels the morning roughness of it where her cheek rests. She cannot help but grin at the sleepy satisfied notes in his voice; she feels the same way.

"Good morning," she greets once she moves her head to prop it on his chest. She remembers to throw a glance over her shoulder and light one of the sage bundles on her dresser (she put out several on a glass dish the night prior in a hasty act of ingenuity when it was becoming abundantly obvious that they were both feeling pretty vocal).

The hand on her hip starts stroking the flesh there. "Good morning," he echoes, and the languid upturn of his lips is too irresistible; she has to kiss him. Thing escalate quickly, and at one point she shifts enough to put enough pressure on her abdomen to remind her that she's very much human.

"Bathroom," she mumbles urgently against his lips, and he reluctantly withdraws his hands and mouth with a disappointed sigh. She starts to crawl backwards off the bed.

This is another one of those moments where she should want to play it cool and calm and collected but all she can do is smile and act...act normal, actually. Act relaxed. Very similar to the way that Elijah is acting. She doesn't even try to find her robe but does seek out her slippers as she sits on the edge of the bed; the tile is going to be freezing in there.

Not that she's one for vanity, but when she catches sight of herself in the mirror over the bathroom sink, she wants to chide herself for the goofy smile on her face. She tries to smooth her features but the smile creeps back into place.

He barely drew any blood from her neck before healing it, but one look at her and Bree is going to tell her she's channeling 'laid' vibes. It's not like she wants to hang up fliers about it, but she also hopes he's not ashamed of last night – hell, there really isn't any need for him to be ashamed. At all. Actually, his talents in bed explain that little big of a swagger she catches in his gait at times. She's kept half an ear out for the sound of her bedroom door shutting, now as she is in the bathroom would be the time he would have decided to discretely sneak out if he was worried about something like that.

He's still in the bed when she comes back out. He looks over to where she stands in the doorway and raises an eyebrow. "You look surprised."

"Wasn't sure if you'd still be here when I came back out," she admits, feeling sheepish as she says it. He's too mannerly to do something like that.

He sits up, the duvet falling due to its own weight and she's treated to a fantastic show as he stretches. If Elijah were to pick up Damon's habit of roaming around without a shirt she wouldn't be complaining.

"Need I remind you that this is, in fact, my bed?" he quips, and any anxiety she is feeling flies out the window with his playful tone. She gets back onto the bed and wraps part of the duvet around herself, more for warmth than modesty. He twists onto his side to edge closer to her and to keep under the blanket, their bodies mirroring one another's as they prop elbows on the pillows and chins in palms, their free hands tangling between them.

"Are you taking it back?" she counters, feeling light and more than happy to continue in this vein, at least for the time being. "Or are you willing to share?"

He stills, eyes suddenly serious and watching her curiously. "I'm quite willing to share," he responds. "I would...I would like it very much."

"Me too," she mouths, and smiles.

They seal their decision with a kiss. This wasn't some one-night stand; their feelings for one another are deeper for that – the proof of it is in every touch, every word.

Suddenly, the idea of possibly having to give this up, in the next few days, possesses her. Her back now against the mattress, she raises herself up, and it barely takes any pressure on his shoulder for him to sit back, and she settles on his lap with her legs on either side of his waist and arms over his shoulders (she noticed it last night and notices it again – their bodies move so gracefully together, causes and reactions, pushes and pulls, pieces of the same device she doesn't quite know yet); nothing is sexual about it now, just intimate on a level that she's amazed by. She kisses him a little more fiercely before touching her forehead to his.

Elena has never seen him seem so much at peace, or so open. Every guard is down between them (every guard is gone) and they are so very much exposed to one another.

"Can we stay like this?" she whispers, voice rough with emotion. "Can we try to keep this for as long as we can?"

If things continue as she fears they will, it might not be long at all, and the selfish part of her wants to spend every last moment until their meeting with Klaus in Elijah's arms, in this bed. It's unrealistic, but to know at the end of the day they can come to this bed and be truthful and unafraid and incautious...

"Of course," he answers, with a gravity to the words.

Most of their group are late risers, and so when they finally part ways, Elena is still the first person in the kitchen. Maggie is soon to follow; she stumbles in just as Elena is putting away the orange juice.

"M'ning," Mags mumbles, and takes the glass right out of her hand. Elena pulls a face, and as Maggie starts to drink the juice, she watches her over the rim of the glass, facetious challenge in her eyes.

Elena rolls her eyes and grabs the juice back out, and pours herself a glass, then decides that she sure as hell burnt enough calories last night not to have to worry about eating one of those pastries she saw in the corner of the kitchen, freshly baked. She turns around, and holds one up to see if Maggie is interested, and sees a look of shock on her friends face.

"What is it?" she asks around a mouthful of flakey dough. The ponytail that rests over her shoulder is still blond, so she knows that's not it.

"Aims," Maggie says, voice slowly teetering into a giggle as she makes her way over to the confused young woman. "Aims, you totally got lucky last night, didn't you?"

Elena drops her breakfast onto the plate with a sigh. "We are _not_ talking about-"

"Aside from your aura, you've got this ridiculous smile on your face and you were humming to yourself." Maggie laughs and jumps to sit up on the island counter, and leans forward precariously. "Was it awesome? I bet it was awesome. He's like, a thousand years old so I'm sure he knows all sorts of tantric-"

Elena launches a pastry at Maggie, who catches the thing even as she laughs. "Margaret LaForte, you stop that!" she yelps, indignant, but even as the words are out of her mouth she's laughing along with her. "I'm not one to kiss and tell," she manages to say, almost airily, before taking another bite and changing the subject. "So I did manage to map out a good route for us to run. Elijah confirmed with me that it's safe, plus he's got more security on the property so..." she pauses to take a drink of juice, then brandishes the glass in the witch's direction. "Go. Clothes. Sneakers. Four miles."

Maggie's jaw drops. "What?" she asks, tonelessly.

"Four miles," Elena repeats, firmly. "And when we're done with that, we're going back to the crossbow."

The girl blanches. "But mama said-"

"I know, Maggie, but if it comes down to it, I want to know you won't hesitate – you can't hesitate. Elijah's told me a lot about his brother and he's going to try to retaliate once he realizes he's been double-crossed. We have to be ready for everything."

Finished with the plate and glass, she brings them over to the sink. "I'm going to talk to Bree about it and explain it to her. Crossbow, stakes...maybe even a dagger. We can't rely on my magic or yours. We're back to training like at home."

"Can I watch? I've got 'Eye of the Tiger' on my phone – I'll play it while you're working out."

Elena's head snaps around so quickly her ponytail smacks into the other side of her face. Leaning in the kitchen doorway is Damon, his arms folded across his chest.

If this were two years ago, she'd roll her eyes and say something back that was a flirty retort. He'd sidle over and help her with the dishes. There would be something heavy and unspoken and they'd both get frustrated until he lost his patience and did something erratic. The cycle would then start over.

Now, she gives him a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Glad to-oh _shit_." The plate lands in the sink with a clatter and she runs, hands still sudsy, past Damon.

Stefan and Caroline are probably going to be looking for someplace where they can be 'alone' – the bedrooms are all upstairs. That means walking past the LaForte's room. That means Bree will see that Stefan has been let out of his cell...which means that Damon is, too.

Elena doesn't make it very far before she catches sight of Bree rounding the corner of the service hallway, a crossbow in hand.

This is the second time she's been in the crosshairs of one in twenty-four hours. She can't see from this far away if it's the one with the tricky safety. It probably is.

What are the chances that the arrow will catch fire and _not_ land on something valuable or flammable? Pretty slim.

She swipes her hand to the side, suds flying, hoping to catch Bree at enough of a surprise to be able to knock it out of her hands. Opening a curtain with her weak powers is one thing, but prying a weapon out of this woman's grip is something else altogether.

Damon follows the her out into the hallway, much to her dismay. His eyebrows are scrunched together.

"What the hell is-"

Bree swings the crossbow over to target him. "Damon Salvatore, you and I are overdue for a little chat,"she declares.

"Bree, you need to put that down," Elena says, slowly as she tries to creep forward, "you know this won't end well and I think this guy is on _Elena's list_."

There will be a whole slew of questions that will result if she lets that stake-arrow go.

She doesn't listen to the warning but continues to glare at the vampire behind Elena. "That's nice...but I need to talk with him. Set some ground rules."

"Mama!" yelps Maggie running down the hallway towards the trio. "Stop that!"

The bartender doesn't listen, and Elena sees Maggie's face screw up with determination before she launches herself at her mother's back. As slight as the girl is, she surprises her mother enough to send them wobbling sideways, towards some old weaponry in a display stand.

Before Elena can even process it, she's charging at the two of them, pushing them both out of the way of the weapons, and trying to twist the pair now falling towards the carpet. Bree ends up on the bottom of the pile, while Elena cushions Mag's blow.

Flat on her back and the breath knocked out of her, Elena is the first to see Bonnie peering over the side of the second story bannister, the cellphone still to her ear. From the other side come Stefan, shirtless, and Caroline, wrapped in a sheet and looking bedraggled. The door from the Krall's wing is tentatively pushed open by Mr. Krall.

Well at least they're ensuring sure no one is bored around here.

Maggie scrambles over her mother and withdraws the white, skinny object from the crossbow.

"There wasn't even a stake in it!" She holds up a tube of rolled up paper.

Bree, groaning as she gets to her knees to stand up, shakes her head. "I was just going to scare him."

Damon speeds towards them, leaning over her, anger on his face. "By threatening me with a crossbow? You already tried to kill me once!"

"You _actually_ killed me!"

"And you came pretty close to doing the same to me."

"Only after you killed Lexie!"

Elena closes her eyes and buries her face in her hands while she waits to catch her breath before standing. "Can you two just stop? Please?"

There's talking over her, and she's half-certain she hears _Maggie_ rapidly marching her mother away, telling her off. Damon and Stefan, now downstairs, are talking to the side. "_Fine_," Damon snaps. "I'll talk to her later, but don't expect anything to come of it." Stefan sighs heavily and exits.

Suddenly there's a hand being offered to her, and the large lapis lazuli stone in the ring on the fingers is a dead giveaway before she even draws her head up enough to look up at Damon.

"Thank you," he says with obviously forced civility as he helps her up from the floor. "For trying to help me before."

That's a lot, coming from him. She busies herself with brushing herself off and telling him it was nothing. "Bree is just...she's kind of stressed right now and we purposely didn't tell her where you were before – once we found out you were _that_ Damon it seemed like the right thing to do. Should have counted on something like that."

She huffs and crosses her arms, giving him an earnest look. "Just try not to instigate her, please?"

It's the wrong thing to say. He freezes, obviously spooked by Elena's behavior performed by a stranger's body. Her stomach plummets as she realizes just how _her_ she was being in that moment.

She scrambles to cover. She casts her eyes downward and tucks her hair behind her ear. "Sorry! Sorry, that was really forward of me. It's just that you were trying to piss my friend off in the basement and um, Bree is already really looking for a reason to be allowed to hurt you...Elijah really stressed how important it was that you and your brother are kept safe for your friend, and-"

"You're not fooling anyone, you know," he cuts her off.

There's a tightness in her chest. "W-what?" she sputters.

A smirk spreads on his lips, and she tries not to panic as he leans closer, and whispers in her ear. Rationally, there is no way he would ever be so calm if he'd discovered her secret.

"Caroline caught Elijah's walk of shame. Now _that_ is something I would have paid to see."

There's relief, somewhere inside of her, but for now the anger bubbles to the surface, and she lets it. "That's not really any of your business," she snaps.

She misses the Damon that she'd left behind in Mystic Falls. She misses how happy they were, despite everything, to know that they at least had one another. It had been easy for her to forget, with time and distance, some of his graver transgressions, but she needs to understand that even his worst actions are part of him, and back then she'd compartmentalized him in her mind. Now, she accepts him, all of him; she is far from innocent herself. She will always love him, she knows, the Salvatore she never truly gave a chance.

She'd made him promise to never leave her and then she fled. She told him this in the letter, too. (Guilt seems to thrive in the aftermath of all her actions.)

This volatile man is what she's caused, back to the way he was when they had first met. Elena hoped one day that he'd be able to find someone to care for him in a way that wouldn't leave him even more broken than he already was; she'd hoped it would be her, but she was wrong.

Damon seems to size her up as he steps around her, ignorant of how indignant she appears.

Elena stares up at the ceiling, calling on deities she's never really much counted on for patience for the upcoming days. Avoiding Damon is on the top of her list, because being around him makes her _want_ to be herself, and she can't do that. Too much is at stake for him to discover her secret.

She and Elijah keep to their promise; after they both spend their days lying and plotting and preparing and fretting, they reach for one another in bed to find peace and comfort. They talk of their lives and

the conversations twist and wander like their bodies and hands.

Everyone knows they're sleeping together, but aside from the occasional joke, they leave it be. The cast of characters considered, they're thought to be pretty boring. Caroline and Stefan are still in the early stages of their relationship and happy – it's impossible to find one without the other. Bonnie spends part of her time practicing magic with Maggie, and another large portion of it speaking on the phone with Jeremy (they are back together it seems). Maggie is starting a stealthy attempt at flirting with Mr. Krall's son without Bree knowing. Bree keeps trying to contact Lucy, and furiously speeds through texts looking for a way to protect them all. And Damon? After he and Bree had a little heart-to-heart, they metaphorically shook hands, and while he didn't actually apologize, they were both at least talking to one another without trying to kill each other. She even walked past the library at one point to find them cheerfully arguing over bands.

Elena busies herself with training Maggie, or practicing magic on her own – she struggles to find a way to control it. Restraint evades her and she turns to books.

Knowing there isn't much of anything written regarding the Petrova Fire, she tries to look up other, closely-related forms of magic, for some sort of information. While there isn't a great deal she is finding about protection that seems to connect to her own magic, she is finding out quite a bit about Doppelgangers. The word seems to pop out at her with alarming, increasing regularity, as she goes through Grimoires and manuscripts. Finally, after a lot of thought and worrying, she goes to Bree to talk.

The date of the Resurrection is speedily approaching, and Elena is trying to cram in as much time as she can, trying to soak up all the memories of her friends' faces, their voices...she can't really enjoy time with them as herself, but even as she stands on the periphery, she is greedily cataloging these moments.

Her conversations with Klaus are mostly by text, but sometimes by phone. She's told him that she's in Bulgaria, but instead of wanting to meet with her, he's insisted that she continue to remain hidden. While it works out better for her, she's also nervous that he demands no proof of her location in a neighboring city.

On the fourth day, after a loud, rambunctious dinner with everyone, Elena returns to her room knowing that Elijah will be late, and decides to read for a while, to calm her nerves. He is out of the country, taking care of business, _actual_ business; she's learned he is involved in real estate as a way to make money ("It keeps me busy" he casually said of his billions, to her shock).

The crinkle of pages wakes her, and she opens her eyes to see Elijah standing beside the bed, gently placing the aged and delicate book she had been studying down onto the bedside table. She sits up with some effort, as her limbs are sleep-heavy and sore from the day's training.

He ducks his head as he loosens his tie to give her a lingering kiss that wakes her fully back up. It says 'I'm here' and 'I'm safe', and it saves them the effort of actually talking. While he may have wished to fully remove his clothing before getting into the bed, they manage the process quite well on the bed after Elena pulls him down and he obliges.

He starts to crawl down her body, pressing kisses as he goes, and she stares up at the ceiling willing herself to just put aside the conversation they need to have, but when his full lips, now warmed by her own body heat, press low on her belly she sits up. "We need to talk," she says, hushed and breathless, eyes closed.

Another kiss in the same location and he repositions himself, kneeling in the bed. In the dark of her room, she can barely see it but he quips an eyebrow.

"I need to know what you want for us, for the future," she adds, quickly. "Because...because if I'm still alive, Elijah, I...I _really_ want to continue to see where this goes."

"As do I," he says, calmly, but far too quickly. "And Bree told us there really is no reason for you to come to harm; the blood of the Doppelganger is only required in the second part of the ceremony."

She nods, confirming that. "I-I know that, I do, and I know she said that the first part is difficult, but it won't cause harm to Luce and Mags, but..."

She trails off, licks her lips, and takes a deep breath before continuing.

"I was doing some research myself, and I kept noticing just how many spells require my blood. Not just spells your brother would be interested in, _other_ spells. Your mother and Ayanna may have used Tatia's blood for their own purposes, but really, they were using a convenient resource."

"You know I do not think about you like-" he starts to say firmly, impassioned.

"-I know you don't, Elijah," she assures him quickly, and she props herself up on her elbows. "I know, but there are others who do see it that way. Think about it: it's been very obvious for a very long time that you and your family are looking for the Petrova Doppelganger; you've called dibs and lesser vampires or werewolves or witches or..._whatever_, they've been scared off. But remove your brother and-"

"-And they will seek you out." He mutters something under his breath in a language that sounds almost guttural, and is probably ancient, but definitely a curse. "Naturally, you worry about your family."

She nods.

"Should...something happen to you, I gave my word that I will watch over them," he says, carefully. "That will not change, Elena. I will watch over them. No matter what choices you make, your friends, your family...should you have children-"

"-There won't be children, Elijah," she says, and her voice breaks; it's something she's given serious thought over the last few days, and it breaks her heart to make the choice, but she has to. "If I were to have children, then somewhere down the line, there would be another Petrova Doppelganger. There would be a...a great-great ad nauseum granddaughter of mine running around with a target on her back and I won't allow that. I can't-" she stops and swallows back the tears. "I _want_ children, more than I want a normal life, but it's not going to happen."

She wipes quickly at the few tears escaping, and resolves to continue. "But Jeremy would be targeted, since he's my brother; we _are_ biologically related, and I don't want anyone coming after him."

He must hear her heart rate increase because he frowns worriedly and tilts his head slightly, waiting.

"I think...I think if I am still alive when this is over, I think I want you to turn me."

His response is instantaneous. "You don't want that. You didn't want to be a vampire, Elena, and I know that is _still_ not your desire, even as you say that." His voice rises as he speaks.

"You're right, it's not. But I also don't want my friends and family constantly at risk of being hurt or killed just because they know me. If I become a vampire I could protect them – I'm not able to do that right now. It's like the Fire controls _me_, Elijah. I can't do this anymore, I can't protect them and it's not fair to them and, and..."

She flounders, unable to verbalize just how much she's afraid, and angry, and grieving.

He crawls back over her, and kisses her, so strong and filled with love that it seems to brand its way into her memory. The kisses trail down her neck and finally between her breasts and over her heart. "If that is what you wish, so be it," he murmurs against her skin, and it is obvious from his tone of voice it's not what he wants.

It's not what she wants, either, but it's something she'll need to do. It seems selfish, to think that she'll have forever, afterward.

She's so lost in her thoughts that she isn't aware that he's moved to take up the space beside her on the bed until he's tucking her in against his side, and instinctively, she throws a leg over his and rests her head on his chest. There need for one another is not sexual tonight.

She cranes her neck to give him another kiss, an appreciative one, and as she settles against him, she feels a strange, distant sense of calm wash over her. She's made her decision, and at least now she knows she's going to die on her own terms, no matter what.

"I'm scared," she admits, to herself and him, and he presses a kiss to the top of her head.

"You are, my lovely Elena," Elijah says, voice thick with emotion, "by far the bravest woman I have ever known. There are few who would give up their life for those they love, though many say they would. Of the Petrova Doppelgangers that I've known or knew of, you have the most courage."

"Tell me about the other ones," she whispers, happy for a distraction. "You've told me about Katherine and a little about Tatia, but what about the others?"

"Most were kept hidden from me, or were killed before I discovered them," he says with a heavy sigh and what suspiciously sounded like a wet sniff. More than a little alarmed, she moves so she can look up to his face and sees him drying his cheeks with the back of his hand.

She tries to wrap herself around him even more, and rests her head on his shoulder. After a quick kiss to his neck, she settles. "Did you know any of their names?"

"Charlotte," he replies. "I knew of Charlotte. That was the 1790s, I think. I nearly even met her. From what I found out about her, she was quite clever, rather spirited, and curious by nature," he says. "She wrote for a New England paper under her brother's name, and as he was the one to deliver the articles, they were never the wiser. Spent most of her life traveling the world as a lady's maid, always seeking employment with women about to leave the country for their husband's business ventures.

"She had a son out of wedlock with a wealthy landowner from Georgia whom she met on the continent, but he was the one who raised the child. Katherine discovered Charlotte's existence a short time before I did. Poisoned her. She fell ill and took lodgings in Mystic Falls where she passed away. I arrived in time for her funeral; her lover traveled to the town and spared no expense."

"So that's why I was born there, because she died there?" She feels him nod. "Is that why Katherine came to Mystic Falls?"

"It was the middle of the next century, so yes, she may have believed enough time had passed for the next Doppelganger to be born."

It's also means that she was born in the same place that Tatia died, and that fact sits strangely in her gut.

"How old was she," she asks, quietly, "when she died?"

"Thirty eight." He speaks the words with a reverence that shakes her.

Suddenly, to her, that seems like a very long lifetime – longer than hers will ever be, and she thinks _at least one of us lived that long_, as if she were in some sort of strange sisterhood of women with the same face, the same fate, but different personalities. Somehow, there is comfort in that. One of them _lived_ and had a child and saw the world, and did those things on their own terms.

Elijah had purposely chosen to speak of her, she knows.

"Thank you," she says, and closes her eyes to try to sleep.

"I won't let you lose your humanity," he vows, and she marvels at how well he knows her.

"I'll try not to lose it, either," she responds, and searches in the dark for his hand, finding it on his chest. Their hands lay clasped together there. "You have my word," she says, an echo of his own, and she smiles into his skin.

"And you, Elena Gilbert, have my heart."

And he is going to have hers, for the always of her mortal lifetime, and the forever of their time on earth.

Of all the things she possesses that she is risking these days, at least she knows her heart is safe.


	17. Become a Lion Hearted Girl

Chapter's title from 'Rabbit Heart' (Raise It Up)' by Florence and the Machine. But if you really want to hear a fantastic cover of this (which is a little more fitting), check out Bphilipsbelgium's cover over on youtube. Gorgeous!

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><p><strong>E<strong>lena's apprehensions grow just as rapidly as the time seems to pass. She and Elijah seem to linger more, each morning, before finally getting up and starting their days. Nights are more desperate and needy, but in the light of day they take their time, slow and intimate and seared into her memory.

She's in love with him, she knows this. The courage to go into the Resurrection and probably die in the process comes to her more quickly than the emotional strength it takes to admit her feelings to him.

Bree finally catches on to Maggie's flirtations with Peter Krall, and while both Elena and Maggie wait for her to admonish her, Bree simply shrugs.

"With everything going on," she says heavily, "I can't fault you for wanting something like that."

Lucy is alive, as of the last time Elijah met with Klaus (he went alone, they demonstrated Maggie's safety to Klaus, and he apparently did the same). There's been no word from her, and Bree spends a great deal of time simply sitting, staring into space. When this is over, Elena knows she'll be strong and pull through for her daughter, but right now she seems hollow, as fragile as an autumn leaf.

And for some strange reason, Damon is respecting that.

He jokes around, challenges her to make him obscure drinks at the bar in the lounge, and is trying to distract her from what could be her impending grief. Left on his own, he seems agitated, and Elena's caught him trying to call her phone a couple of times, but he always ends up pocketing the phone, disappointed there's no response.

Klaus isn't really contacting her. Her paranoia is skyrocketing.

_He knows. He knows._ It's an echoing chant in her head once more, and the results this time will not be good.

They talk, and they face the facts: if he knows, then her death is assured. She's got to expect the worst as they continue. Elijah is not sullen, nor is he trying to talk her out of her plans. She knows that there is a very likely chance she could die during the Resurrection, and he's agreed to give her some of his blood that morning, just to be safe.

She's braced herself for opposition, based off of her previous experiences with vampires and this sort of decision, but none comes. If anything else, he's been helping to make sure she's prepared in as many ways as possible.

He sits down with her and goes over deeds and bank accounts and helps her with the process of ensuring everything is also set up in someone else's name. She took care of a great deal of this before leaving Mystic Falls, but she gains a peace of mind as they go over all of it once more.

She didn't think she could care for him more than she already does, but then realizes how foolish that sounds; every day, they spend time learning of the other's life, and while she greedily drinks in the images that he paints with his words, he seems just as eager to ensure that he remembers every detail she describes. There is always that niggling fear in the back of her mind – what if she doesn't come back – and he must understand her desire for someone to remember, for someone to know everything she wants told.

Once more, Elena sits down to write letters to her loved ones. The sentiments of her previous letters are in these as well, but she adds to it her explanation of the past two years, and her apology for the deception.

To the pile of letters, she adds four new ones, for the LaForte-Bennetts, and for Elijah. Of all the letters she has written, his is the shortest. There would be too much for her to say if she allowed herself to truly consider what it is that's left unsaid between them.

His is a small scrap of paper, old parchment from his own supply. She carefully practices using the ink fountain and pen several times before she's satisfied that she can write efficiently without allowing for blobs of ink to mar the note. With a world and a lifetime of things she _wishes _ to say, she settles for what is truly beneath all of it.

_I love you._

_Thank you._

_I love you._

That first phrase needs repeating.

Elena tucks the note inside the band of her bra and keeps it there for the duration of the day, an impulsive move that she knows will ensure her scent – the first thing he ever recognized as distinctly her own – is left on it.

Bree comes urgently running into Elijah's study three days before the Resurrection to show the pair a small slip of paper. Lucy's handwriting is obvious, and noticeably rushed.

_Another_ is the only word on it.

"What does that mean?" Elena asks, immediately rising from the chaise lounge, dislodging the books and notepad on her lap from her reading.

Bree, who cradles the paper and cannot seem to stop stroking the delicate letters, gives no answer, and Elena looks over to Elijah, whose look is grim.

There's no way to move up their plans, not without risking lives.

The last day before the day of the Resurrection comes. She wakes before dawn, having set her alarm for it. They stare out the window at the dim light, and Elena runs her fingertips across his chest – sometimes he simply breathes to hear it mimic the sound of her own breath – and when his chest rises with a greater inhalation, she tilts her head up to look at him before he even opens his mouth to speak.

"Do you still want to go?" he asks, and she nods her head against his side.

They dress quickly – his shirt is only half buttoned, the sleeves half-rolled, and dresses in jeans; when she turns and sees this, she can't help it, she laughs, and she is happy she still can. She bundles herself up and while they seem a mismatched pair by clothing, they slip out the back door, hand in hand, and make for the river's edge, to a spot where the bank on the other side is easy to access, and they jump over.

The hill is small, but when they get to the top of it, Elijah spreads a blanket on the ground, and wraps them in another. She sits between his legs, and leans back into his arms.

The woods are still quiet, undisturbed at this early hour, and they tumble down from the hill in a casual slope, transforming into a valley. Because it is winter, they can see the houses that would normally be hidden beneath a canopy of green. At this hour, only a spare few fireplaces are allowing lazy trails of smoke to ascend from their chimneys. The world is at peace, as is nature.

"Can you feel it here?" he murmurs, low and respectful, in her ear, and she nods. That lovely hum she always feels is present as ever, content and pure. If she were to concentrate hard enough, she thinks, in a place as calm as this, she might just be able to _feel_ the weight of the snow on branches, the weightlessness of the bird. There is an undercurrent of power and it only continues to build until suddenly, beautifully, fantastically, it releases just as the sun appears over the mountain ridge.

The gasp of air that she steals is reflexive, and Elijah holds her closer still.

Elena feels its heat and power and it spills out over the landscape, bleeding amber and gold and whatever it touches is made all the more breathtaking.

Birds start to sing. The hum is louder now as both animals and humans alike start to wake and start their days.

"This is, by far, one of the most awe-inspiring sights one can see," Elijah says suddenly. "I can only imagine what it must be like, to be connected to nature and experience it."

"I've never seen or felt anything like this," she chokes out, unable to tear her eyes away from it all.

"What I feel here, what I see...you are the same to me. I did not intentionally seek it, but I found this in you, and no matter what happens that will not change." She hears him swallow, and a close-mouthed kiss is pressed into the skin behind her ear that peaks out just above her scarf. "My love for you will not change."

She twists and raises herself to her knees, her back warm from the sun that she's turned away from. Her shadow falls across his face, but it matters little as she lowers her head to kiss him.

"I love you," she whispers, against his lips, and he makes a needy sound in return. Her gloved hands press against the sides of his face as she presses kisses to his closed eyelids, to the trail of wet that escapes from them and match her own, and finally, she returns to his lips. "Always and forever," she vows before pressing her mouth to his.

"Always," he rasps into her shoulder as she wraps her arms around his neck. "Forever."

They arrive back at the manor in time for Elena to change into lighter clothing for her workout. The sun has allowed the temperature to creep up slightly, and Maggie knocks on the door, fully dressed, just as Elena is tying her shoes.

It's the first time she's ever not had to be dragged out of bed.

Halfway through their run, Elena stops Maggie suddenly, and makes her try to shoot with the crossbow. The girl's reaction time is much quicker, and the stake sinks deep and clean directly into the trunk of the tree right where the chest area of person would generally be. Maggie beams.

Back in the house, she will show the girl the small gun that has been sitting on her mantle.

She comes in from finishing her run with Maggie and goes to walk into the kitchen for a drink, but comes to a halt when she sees through the small window in the door that Caroline is on the counter, and Stefan stands between her legs, kissing her as if their lives depended on it.

She goes to turn around and finds Damon standing there, arms crossed across his chest with a book in hand. "Nearly walk in on something you didn't want to?" he asks and she nods, and starts to walk away. "You wouldn't believe how many times that would happen to me when he was with Elena." He brightens slightly. "Speaking of doomed relationships, when did all of that start between you and Elijah? No troubles in paradise, I hope?"

She wrinkles her nose and makes to leave, but he blocks her.

"He's a _vampire_, you know. And if you're not planning on becoming his undead bride, your relationship's only got a few years before you start getting labeled a cougar. Then, it's only a hop, skip and a jump to an homage to _Maude._"

He walks alongside her, much to her consternation. She's out of breath and sweaty, but he seems to not notice that. As they walk, Damon seems to play with the book but then reaches over and taps her arm with it. "You've been awfully quiet," he declares, and she stops walking to frown at him. At this hour, the hallway beside the dining hall is empty, and dark. The two story windows are mostly covered with thick, dramatic curtains, and they face one another in the dim light of one of these.

"You barely know me enough to judge that," she lies, defensively.

There's a halfhearted sneer in response; it's more of a sad smile. "You may have been a little too preoccupied preparing to die to notice, but I think you and I are both paddling that boat."

He ignores her look of alarmed confusion (and it's real – what has he got planned?) and looks out the window, jams his free hand in his pocket. After a moment, he swallows, and turns back to her with a heavy sigh. "Does Elijah know about your plans?"

"He's fully aware of them, yes," she answers, firm and assured, still not certain where this was headed but confident in that much.

"And he's fine with it?" he asks, dubious.

"Yes, it's my choice, and-"

He cuts her off. "Well I have my own plans, and they include making sure you're still breathing when this is done."

It's not his words but the look he gives her, angry but tender and resolved, that feels like a punch in the gut, and she finds herself paralyzed with fear. Damon takes advantage of this and leans close to her ear.

"For _two fucking years_ I've looked for you, and now that I finally find you, you're sacrificing yourself for some kid you just met? I love you too much to let you go, Elena," he whispers fiercely, barely loud enough for even her to hear. Anger boils beneath the surface, but he seems to be trying to keep himself subdued. "I told you I'd always choose you and I meant it."

"That's not always right," she counters, her head shaking from side to side frantically. "You can't do that, it's not-"

He brings a finger to his lips. "I won't let on, I promise," he says, somber and sad. Then he continues, in a challenging voice. "Stefan and Caroline and Bonnie, they won't know. Carry on with whatever you have cooked up if you want. Keep lying to them, or whatever else it is you have planned. Neither you nor Elijah are going to be able to stop me."

And with that he's pressing a kiss to the corner of her lips, but it feels more like a slap than anything else, and then he's walking around her.

She gathers her wits about her just in time before he leaves the hallway. "If Maggie dies, I'll die," she calls out, trying to sound strong despite the tears in her eyes. It makes him stop, and he turns, confused. It's the distraction she needs. "I promised to protect her until I die. If I fail at that, and she dies, so will I. You can't stop this, Damon."

If it ruins his current plans, he doesn't let on. "Why do you always make it hard for me to protect you?" he asks, bitterly. He backs away, holding up the little book he's hand in his hand, a forced look of blasé on his handsome features. "Gotta go do a little reading," he declares. "I guess I'll see you around."

What he couldn't see was that in her zipup's pocket, she's been tapping at her phone's touch screen with one hand.

When Damon turns around to leave the hallway and enter the foyer, he walks right into the syringe of vervain that Elijah is holding. The older vampire pushes the struggling younger one to his knees. It does not take long for the vervain to work, and Damon topples over. After a quick look around, the Original vampire hoists the Salvatore over his shoulder, and Elena hurries to catch up with him on the way to the dungeon.

"Thank you," she says.

"I suggest we ought to keep him down here until after the attempted Resurrection," Elijah proposes once they've placed him in the cell once more. "That was a rather large dose of vervain mixed with a sedative; he will be unconscious for some time."

"We can only hope," she says with a sigh and looks down at Damon on his cot. "I've tried to be so careful, but he still knew it was me."

Elijah carefully puts his hands into his pockets, and watches her steadily. "Damon Salvatore is no idiot, and he cares for you a great deal; it was only a matter of time before someone caught on, and it makes sense that he would be the first to do so. He has not been as...distracted, as your other friends."

She rubs at her arms, the chill of the basement getting to her, and Elijah take it as a cue to start to climb the stairs. She follows. "Speaking of distractions," she says as they reach the foyer, "we're going to need to totally wipe down that kitchen. Stefan and Caroline were getting a little _intimate_ in there, and well, we eat food in there."

Honestly? She's a little jealous of them. She and Elijah have to limit themselves to their bedroom not only because of discretion, but because they are rather noisy and he has a very faithful habit of saying her name quite loudly and repeatedly.

"Noted and marked to be addressed," he replies, then turns to her, eyes sparkling and the smirk on his lips signaling that their thoughts are on the same path. "Later?" he asks, and desire blooms in her, sudden and unmistakable.

"I'm thinking _a lot_ later," she responds, sadly. "Much, much later."

His hands embrace her hips and her back hits the solid wood of the basement door. Either way she'd be pinned to the spot; his eyes are searing, dilated with want and a little possessiveness, and she knows that her own mirror his.

"When this is done, every inch of this place will be marked by us," he says lowly before dropping a kiss to her neck. Her back arches, pressing her chest into his, and when her head drops back with a _thud_ onto the wood, she remembers where they are and her involuntary gasp at the feel of his lips on her pulse point is transformed into a weary sigh.

Damon's in the basement, drugged because he knows her secret. Stephan and Caroline are having sex where she likes to make her sandwiches. There is a vampire out to bring her long-dead, look-alike ancestor back from the grave. The sad thing is that all of this feels like she's back in her 'zone', so to speak. Maybe she was never meant for normal.

"Come on," he says, and with a hint of reluctance, he steps back and takes up her hand. "Let's go find Bree and see if there is any progress."

They find both Bree and Bonnie with their heads huddled together over a world map; a smaller map of Mystic Falls is peeking out beneath. Bonnie's big hazel eyes are wide with worry and she's nervously gripping her cellphone.

"What has happened?" asks Elijah as he sweeps into the room, rushing to look down at the map. Elena tilts her head to look at it, too. A small pool of blood sits at the center of the map, obstinate and unmoving.

"We were waiting to have definite information before we came to you," explains Bree.

"My boyfriend isn't in Mystic Falls. He's got that auto check in thing on his phone, and it shows him checked in here in Bulgaria somewhere. Jer is Elena's brother and if he's here, that means that Klaus must have him."

Elena feels like the breath was just knocked out of her. Over the two witches' heads, Elijah's glance flickers to hers, concerned. He's had people in Mystic Falls. Shouldn't they have told him Jeremy had left?

"Ladies, would you please try to locate Elena's other friends – Tyler, Alaric and Matt? I am concerned that Nicklaus might-"

"-We can't," interrupts Bonnie, dejectedly. "I only had a little of Jeremy's blood; I asked him for a sample a while ago, just in case of something like this, but the others..." she trails off with a helpless, apologetic shrug.

"We will get to the bottom of this. For all we know, the device may be here, but he may be safe in Mystic Falls. And the others, have any of you spoken with them recently?"

Bonnie worries at her lip. "Caroline and Tyler are still kind of on the outs, but I got a text from Tyler about four days ago. Matt was with Jeremy at the Grille, like, yesterday; there was someone shouting in a foreign language in the background but they said it was just some drunk at the bar."

"Damon was bitching about Alaric not calling to complain about a prank that he played on him," answers Bree, who is sprinkling some herbs on the map. "He's been expecting a call about a Civil War reenactment meeting that he'd scheduled in Alaric's apartment without his knowledge. No word."

Elijah's watchers would have contacted him if something was wrong – they'd just checked in with him yesterday to tell him everything was quiet and everyone had been sighted and deemed safe. How could they be here?

Elijah straightens up and his emotions seems to seep away, his face a neutral mask of calm. "In an hour, I want everyone to meet in this room to go over our plan. Please let the others know. Damon has been subdued in the basement for the time being – his behavior caused concern and we must err on the side of precaution and assume he is compelled – and therefore will not be joining us. Until then."

Bonnie frowns and looks to Elena for validation on the subject of Damon, but she receives a dismissive head shake in return.

And then he turns and briskly walks out the door. Bonnie runs off to find Stefan and Caroline.

"So tell me," Bree asks, as she now holds a crystal over a map, "do you really think he's-"

"-No," Elena answers quickly, ensuring that no one overhears them.

With a heavy sigh, the bartender drops the crystal and leans heavily on the desk as she closes her eyes. "Who?" she says, after a moment, already knowing Elena's answer. They're both aware of Damon's behavior enough to know what to predict; they knew that his plan was to go after someone.

"It was left pretty vague, actually," admits the other woman before sitting heavily on the leather couch. "But there was implied threat to Maggie. He's figured out most of it." She relates the last part somberly.

Bree grabs at a scrap of paper and scrawls on it at a furious pace, then throws it, balled up, at Elena.

She opens the crinkled paper and starts to read the witch's spiky handwriting.

_I know you care about him, but you protected Maggie. Thank you._

Elena looks over at Bree when she's finished reading and the woman dips her head, a look of gratitude clear on her face. Then, she goes back to cleaning up. "Is Elijah aware of...all that, the caring thing?"

After throwing a nettled glare in Bree's direction, Elena gets up off of the couch and tosses the note into the fireplace. "Completely," she responds. "But I'm not a teenager anymore; I've sorted a lot of things out. They're always going to be in my heart but Elijah's...He won't stop me from doing what I need to do tomorrow," she surmises simply. Not only does it say a lot about Elijah, it also assures Bree that Maggie's safety won't be compromised.

"About tomorrow," Bree starts to say as she sits down on the couch, but Elena cuts her off with a shake of the head.

"Please," she begs, "Please don't try to apologize. I made you and Lucy a promise, and I knew the risks just as much as you two did. I gained an amazing family and a friend and I..." her throat constricts, and she can't help but smile even as she feels her cheeks grow wet. "I love you guys. I wouldn't trade what we've had for the world."

Bree hugs her tightly, and there's a sniff in the vicinity of Elena's ear before she lets her go.

"You should go find Elijah, before we all meet up," says the older woman, wiping at her cheeks. "I'm sure you two have some super secret planning to do."

Elena pushes off of the couch and leaves Bree to put herself back together before her daughter comes into the room.

Elijah is in their room (it's been their room for a week – his clothing is back in the closet, their sparse toiletries mingle in the bathroom, it's their sweat and tears in the bed), and he appears to have been waiting for her.

"Any news?" she asks as soon as the door is closed and the sage lit.

He shakes his head. "My contacts swear that there have been no disturbances. My only guess is that they were taken around the same time that we left the States, and there are witches with glamors in their stead in Mystic Falls."

She can't help but start to nervously pace as her mind goes over the details. Swapping out her loved ones for witches with glamors is a sign to her, isn't it? "He really does know, then. No wonder he's ignored my texts."

If he was knowledgeable of her duplicity, he'll look for revenge any way he can find it; Maggie will _not_ be allowed anywhere near Klaus. They're going to have to reveal the truth to Klaus as soon as possible, if it's obvious he's aware; he'll keep Maggie alive if it means keeping the Doppelganger alive for the second stage of the Resurrection.

Everyone meets in the library and they quickly hash out a plan. Despite the fact that Elijah stresses they must not intervene, Elena knows them all too well to believe they're listening to a word he's saying. Bree seems apprehensive when it comes to the step where Maggie hands herself over without a fight; as long as it appears Klaus wants to go through with the spell, they will try to keep up appearances. He'd be a fool to try to harm the Bennett witches. Those assembled all agree to the plan, and while Elena would never think of going against an agreement with Elijah, she knows they all will try to, come morning.

Maggie draws her to the side, her lips pressed in a thin line. "Can you um," she stops, and looks over her shoulder to make sure Bree is not paying attention. "Can you make sure to protect this house like you do at home?" In a lower voice, she says "I'm worried Mama might...she might try to stop us tomorrow."

"Yeah, yeah sure, Mags," Elena assures her, her voice at a normal volume. "If that makes you feel safer."

Maggie smiles appreciatively, and grabs Elena's hand for a quick squeeze; a small piece of paper is pressed into her palm. Then, she turns away and catches up with Bonnie and Bree as they're exiting the room, acting as though nothing out of the ordinary had just taken place.

"Are you hungry?" Elena asks Elijah innocently once the others leave. Only then does she flatten out the note to read over the list of needed ingredients and the spell itself.

"Quite famished," is his casual reply.

Their walk to the kitchen is direct, and Elena selects the needed herbs from the spice rack. She grabs up a picnic basket from the top of the fridge and throws the items into it before heading into the supply room adjacent to the kitchen where crops from the garden have been left to dry.

"Would you mind grabbing the rock salt from the supply shed? I think that's where I saw it stored."

Elijah eyes the basket's contents. "How much?" he asks, and she knows he's not normally one for 'dirty' work from the displeasure that's evident in his tone.

"How large is your house?" she counters, raising her eyebrows. "You're the one who built a castle-"

"-It's a _manor_, I sa-" he starts to defend.

"-It's a big ass perimeter," she says. "I'll probably use all of it. Meet you at the kitchen door in five?"

They place all the items and a large wheelbarrow by the backdoor, in which she'll be able to quickly mix everything come the morning, and head back upstairs.

Morning comes too quickly. Having spent far too long in the shower with Elijah the night before, Elena had fallen asleep with a wet head. The hair tangled between Elijah's fingers is curled, and the pillow is slightly damp.

Again, they dress in near silence, and speedily do so. This time they travel only to the back door of the kitchen, and work rapidly to dump the salt into the wheelbarrow before Elena dumps full containers of the ingredients in as well. She mixes it with a shovel, and hopes that this is a spell that focuses more on intent than process.

The wheel starts to protest as soon as Elijah starts to push it.

"Shit," she breathes, and she glances up at the windows to see if anyone heard the noise.

Elijah simply picks up the entire wheelbarrow and holds it against his hip. Elena can't help but stare. Outside of necessary violence, he never really shows his strength.

She'll be able to do the same, sooner or later.

She presses on.

They circle the entire perimeter of the manor proper, and Elena whispers the incantation as quietly under her breath as possible. Finally, they reach the front door, she takes the quart sized plastic baggie she'd pocketed from the kitchen and fills it with the mixture. It goes into the pocket of her jacket before they reenter the house.

"There you are," Bree calls from the top of the stairs. She hold up a scrap of paper. "Lucy says he's starting, how is he starting?"

There's no way that Klaus can start the spell without _two_ witches, a mother and a daughter, from the Bennett bloodline. Elena can't recall mention of another pair in the family; this was part of the reason why protecting Mags was so important. Her mind races as she tries to remember, and looks up to see that Bree has descended the stairs to stand with them.

"If they're starting this, that means there are other witches being used," Bree says, and it's obvious how heavy her heart is. The witch looks between the couple, giving them a serious look. "Maggie. If it comes down to it, you save Maggie, okay? Not me. Not Lucy. _Maggie_." Her voice breaks a little on the name.

There's something hidden in her words, and the younger woman's breath catches when she grasps it: saving Maggie means saving Elena. Bree is putting Elena before herself. Elijah's hand on her waist gives an infinitesimal squeeze – of course he deciphered the same.

"Understood," Elena whispers, hating that she is going to go against this woman's wishes very shortly.

A curt nod, and Bree steps back. "Go," she says softly. "Get ready."

Once they return to their room, Elena's hands shake as she starts to go through her duffel, trying to find the gun as well as the dagger and ash. An involuntary jolt of her hand sends vials of vervain to the floor.

"Shit," she breathes, and she barely raises her hands to tear them through her still-blond hair (she's got to keep that secret for as long as she can, no matter how hard it is) before they're caught by Elijah's and he stands before her.

His mouth opens, the lips she loves so much part to speak, but before he can, his phone rings.

It's Klaus' ringtone.

He answers it with the speaker setting engaged. "Brother," Elijah greets, cordial as ever, "are you ready for tonight?"

"Ever so," Klaus says. "Just that one last piece of the big puzzle we're missing, but I think we'll find Miss Elena is closer than we think."

She can discern the sound of a car door shutting just as they hear the noise outside the gates of the manor. She keeps herself from gasping outright, but her panicked eyes flicker to Elijah's. Before she can say anything, Klaus laughs.

"And there you have it," drawls Klaus, and there's a rough edge to his voice that speaks of his disguised anger, "the proof that affirms my suspicions. There's only one girl I can think of offhand who would be fearful of my presence, and who would be with my brother during a private phone call. Betrayed by your own heart, Elena..._Again_, it seems, actually."

Elena closes her eyes as her stomach seems to drop. They're not prepared – she isn't at least. There's not much they can do, but at least she thought she'd have until tonight.

"I've got some people here with me who've been looking forward to seeing you for quite some time, now. Why don't you come outside, Elena?"

Elijah's hand slips into hers, and she feels that at least she has a grip on him as everything else starts to tumble out of control.


	18. A Life Spent Trying to Do Well

Chapter title from 'Lullaby' by Sia.

This is the last full chapter.

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><p><strong>"E<strong>lena, please don't waste my time...or Jeremy's."

Elena swallows and fights the rising feeling of bile in her throat. The Petrova Fire is a slow, steady burn under her skin at this obvious sign of danger.

"He's eager to see you. I know this is a surprise, but brothers are like that you know," Klaus says conversationally. "They like to surprise you when you least expect it, popping up places they shouldn't be...like Georgia."

"Klaus," Elijah starts to say, and the plea in his voice, as well as the small, almost imperceptible, note of fear that resonates in his tone riles anger in Elena, directed entirely at Klaus. "Perhaps if the two of us were to-"

"Why would I leave Elena out of our chat, when you two have been working together against me from the very start?" The casual tone in his voice dissolves as he responds, and he all but snarls at them next. "Get outside."

The call ends abruptly, and Elijah pockets his phone as calmly as possible, his eyes never leaving Elena's. They're resigned, and sad. She can feel the down turned press of her lips, a grim expression on her own features. Today's ending now seems clearer than ever. The Fire prickles and continues to jump at various intervals; probably when Klaus gets too close to the manor's gate.

"We can't let the others know," she says. "Once we're outside and I finish the circle, they won't be able to leave the house until I release the spell."

Either by her own magic or by her death, the barrier should hold for quite some time.

They grab up a few of the weapons already out (the dagger is somewhere at the bottom of the bag, and she doesn't have time to find it), and start down the stairs. She's got the gun. When she hands herself over, she'll take the first chance she gets to shoot.

The house is nearly silent. Most of the inhabitants are still asleep, and every creak can be heard as they quietly walk downstairs. Mr. Krall stands at the door, his rifle in hand, having answered Elijah's text.

Elijah turns to her. "Are you ready?"

"No," she says with a watery laugh, a little bitter, a little weary. "Are you?"

He puts a hand on her cheek, and she risks allowing her glamor to drop. Mr. Krall's quiet gasp barely registers with her as Elijah seems to drink in her face. His hand slides to rest on her collarbone, a thumb on her pulse, before he takes a half step closer and sheltered between their forms, his hand comes to rest between her breasts and slightly to her left. He kisses her slowly on the lips as he commits the feel and sound of her fiercely beating heart to memory.

When they part, she throws a quick smile in Mr. Krall's direction. "Thank you," she says, and then Elijah takes her hand and they walk outside.

As soon as they're over the threshold, Elena pulls out the bag of salt and herbs, finishes the circle, repeats the spell, and can feel the thrum of the magic as it takes hold.

They walk to the gate.

Elena holds back a choked sob.

On the other side stands Klaus. Behind him are two vans, their doors left open as everyone hastily exited the vehicle – some by force, it would appear; there are marks of scuffle in the dirt and once-clean snow.

All four of her friends and family are clearly compelled. There are hybrids amongst the group, but Klaus stands flanked by Jeremy and Alaric. Matt and Tyler are behind them, guarding four women. Three of them are performing a spell, but the last is Lucy, whose face is swollen and cut and wet with tears. The strangers bare enough of a resemblance to Lucy to confirm Elena's fears.

They're Bennett witches, and they are three generations of women. Just as he did in their first standoff, Klaus has prepared backups for his spell, as well as diversions.

But there's no backup for the Doppelganger, and that's at least a comfort, a card they will hold for as long as they can. When Klaus speaks, his breath clouds before him, and it fills her with a little hope; Klaus is mortal, vulnerable, and now he will most certainly die.

"There you are," greets Klaus with false warmth. "It's good to see you again, brother, Elena. And you're not hiding, I see! That's a pleasant change of pace."

"Just let them go, Klaus," Elena says, trying to be rational and calm. "I'm going to hand myself over to you, but you have to-"

Klaus shifts his stance a little, and licks his lips, a smug smile creeping into existence. "- You know, it's sort of strange: with all the time that you have spent recently getting _intimately_ acquainted with my brother, I'm surprised you would confuse me with him." The look falters and drops, and she's confronted with the purest, most malicious, feral form of the hybrid she's ever encountered. Beside her, she feels Elijah tense. "As you can tell, I'm mortal. Couldn't break their compulsions, even if I tried. No negotiations, no stall tactics. Let's get this over with, here and now."

Elena starts to shake her head. "But this isn't the spot-"

The hybrid holds up a finger to halt her speech. "-Thank you, that's reminds me," Klaus says, and he snaps his fingers. Alaric steps forward, and in his hands is a metal canister. Klaus sticks his hands in his pockets and idly regards the vampire hunter as he would a fly. "When my brother and I spoke, I agreed to allow him to dole out proper punishment for one of my men disobeying orders." His gaze snaps to Elena, and she feels sick. "I really liked that other one, Elena."

One of the hybrids steps forward.

Alaric's fingers tighten their grip on the canister for a second (she can't see his ring, why can't she see his ring?), and Elena understands that he's fully aware inside, but he can't move. The eyes that make contact with her are the same warm hazel ones that regarded her with care, with the affection of an almost-father, with hope even when it seemed it should be lost, with pride as she learned to defend herself.

And now he's trying to say goodbye.

When Jenna died, she was able to tell her to turn off her emotions, to numb herself to the pain. She can't, for Alaric. She can't do that, nor can she protect him. The Gilbert ring won't protect him. Her magic won't.

There's a tear running down his cheek, just as hands grip his head.

You never forget the sound.

Alaric's body crumples to the ground, and the canister's contents spill out on the snow. Elijah's arms are an iron band around her waist, and for a second she struggles against him, trying to free herself to slip through the bars. Her own scream reaches her ears and her knees start to buckle.

"Ric!" comes a second voice, bellowing, behind them. When she twists her head to look, Stefan is beating at the invisible barrier that keeps him inside. Caroline's devastated, silent expression changes to horror as she catches sight of Elena over Elijah's arm.

"Elena?" she calls. "Elena! Don't!"

Caroline's realization soon spreads through the group now crowded at the door.

The world spins and twirls and slips from her fingers like her magic and time itself.

"No more games, Elena," warns Klaus. He toes the dark contents of the canister, spreading them out on the snow. "This is dirt from the place Tatia was born...guess that takes care of that part," he addresses them, matter-of-fact. "It's the day of her death."

He gingerly pulls out a second metal container from within his leather jacket. "My mole amongst your men let me know where you were keeping her remains."

Even with everything going on, Elena cannot help but see the possessive way he runs his fingers over the stainless steel. It's not the affection or reverence that Elijah touches her with; it's authoritative, assuming.

"Got my witches – better than the ones you were giving me, by the way. Grandmother, mother, and child. Magic always works better in threes, Rebekah told me that. These three didn't even know they were part of the Bennett family, can you believe it?" he jerks a thumb in their direction. "Grandmother was given up for adoption by her mother. Guess she didn't want her marked with the Bennett name." Klaus shrugs. "Didn't help her much, I suppose."

Elijah's arms around her shift, and his hand clutches at her throat. There's no real pressure in his grip, but she knows what he's doing. She brings her hands up to latch on to his arm, as if to try to fight him. "And all of those plans would be ruined if she were to die now."

"Oh, you wouldn't do that," Klaus waves off the threat. "You love her." He says it like it's an accusation of the worst kind, a sneer on his face as he gives his brother a disappointed look. "And she loves you, pathetic as it is. She'll kill for you and die for you, Elijah; it's as plain as day. And yet you deny your brother what he wants most in this world?"

"How do you know Tatia will want you, after she's Resurrected?" Elijah counters.

"She'll be grateful," snaps Klaus, and his voice escalates in volume and conviction as he continues. "She died and I will be giving her the life she couldn't have possibly dreamed of, then. Unlike the rest of you lot, that will mean something. She won't leave me. She won't abandon me. She won't betray me, as my own flesh and blood has done."

Klaus' eyes glisten with unshed tears of anger and hurt. In his twisted mind, he cannot see that Tatia's had a thousand years to come to peace on the other side. To rip her from that now would be a torture too horrific to begin to fathom. All he sees is that he would finally have a companion beside him who wouldn't hate him as his own family does now.

The hybrid sniffs and furiously wipes at his face before he continues. "And I was only mildly suspicious until the parking garage. The second I saw how she flambéed my guard, I knew something was amiss. Hate to break it to you, Elena, but that's what really ruined it for you."

He points at Elena. "The Petrova Fire, how's that working out for you, love? My trio here told me about it – turns out Bennett Grimoires aren't terribly hard to come by and are slightly numerous. Quite an interesting piece of magic, really." His grin goes wicked. "But it's got it's downsides. Peter!"

Maggie must have snuck out of the house to meet with Mr. Krall's son before Elena and Elijah stepped out and sealed the house. Peter appears from behind the shed, and even though he's all but carrying Maggie, she doesn't put up much of a fight. She looks angry, but determined. Bree is screaming hysterically from inside the house, and Lucy, on the other side of the gate, looks heartbroken. As the pair pass by Elena and Elijah, her eyes flicker over Elena's face, for the first time truly seeing her.

"Aimee?" she whispers, resisting Peter's attempts to move her forward.

"I'm sorry," Elena says. "Mags, I'm so, so sorry. Please, just, don't-"

Elena's outstretched fingers brush against Maggie's, whose curl up into a fist.

"I have, to, Aims," she responds, sadly. "Peter said they'll hurt Mom if I don't."

Just as her friend turns to face Klaus, Elena catches sight of something glimmering in her waistband.

The second Maggie's feet are outside of the gate, Elena feels the pull in her gut, and cannot help it as she twist so quickly out of Elijah's arms that he loses his grasp and her feet are moving towards the gates.

"No!" Elena's back is slammed into the bars, with a little more force than necessary. Elijah presses her against them despite her body struggling to evade him. She looks up to see true panic on his face.

"She'll torch you if it comes to it," threatens Klaus, happily, "you can't fight this thing for too long. And look, now I've got a spare set of Bennett witches. Romance doesn't hold much power over this thing, brother."

Klaus stretches out his hand and offers it as one does to a dog. "Now just trot on over to me, sweetheart. Should anyone else try to come through those gates but you, Elena, Matt's been compelled to rip them apart."

Elena tries to tamp down on the fire beneath her skin, to control it before it gets Elijah or someone else hurt. The gate's bars are pressed deeply into her back, and she looks up to Elijah.

Klaus' pride would be his downfall. This was what they knew, and they only hoped for a chance to use it against him.

The plan is horrible and perfect and she has to act now.

"Elijah," she whispers, and has to wet her lips and swallow to make sure her voice is strong enough to speak. "Elijah, you've got to let me go, now."

Elijah looks down at her, and looks as if he's about to argue with her. She slips the little revolver out, and loads a round of bullets into with shaking fingers before pressing it against him. When he sees this, his features slide from a tense attempt at aloofness to acceptance.

Just as Klaus is using her words and magic against herself, she's going to set his own cunning to destroy his plans.

Elijah kisses her with bruising force, and when his head dips to bite into his wrist, he pauses to inhale her scent. He presses his wrist to her mouth, and she pulls into her mouth the coppery, powerful liquid that will save her and her friends.

She kisses him one more time, and when they part she whispers the three words to him that she knows with her whole heart to be true, and he lets her go because he feels them as well.

She puts her glamor back on.

Once she's through the gate, Elena's Converse sneakers press into the snow, and the cold bites as the wet seeps into them. The wind tears at her hair and it's blond, and she knows it's the last time it will ever be so. The air is crisp and the sun is shining down and the world hums with magic. She's lived most of her life ignorant and ungrateful of just how wonderful life was, how precious and utterly incredible it is.

Her feet press forward, and she knows she has never moved with such confidence. Her arm comes up and she raises the gun to aim at Klaus. Her steps start to speed up and she tries to think of all the reasons she's doing this as she starts to run towards Klaus and Maggie, who is now in his grasp. Her friends and family do not deserve to live in constant fear of this..._boy_ and the might he wields. Anger and fierce protectiveness flood her emotions and outweigh the terror as she runs towards her death.

Klaus suddenly understands why she has her glamor back on, and despite all of his screams for Matt to stop, he's mortal, he can't do a damn thing.

Matt pushes past the hybrid beside him, and starts to run at her. It makes sense, sadly and fantastically, that he'd be the one to end her life. Her first love, the man who promised he'd see her again, the one who made her swear that they'd never leave one another, back when they were children and they knew nothing.

His hands claw at her blond hair. Her memories of them scuffling around as children flash through her mind as she fights to struggle against him. She can't hold her own for too long against him, but she needs to give Maggie a chance.

He's got her back to his chest, and momentum turns them towards the manor. The world spins, she sees Elijah and remembers the feel of his skin against hers, the peacefulness that always comes from being by him. She loses control of it and a thousand sights and sensations from her memory try to consume her. She's giving up so much.

But every reason she's thought of makes it worth it.

Matt's wicked hunting knife winks in the light and she looks up as he pulls on the back of her head, fingers roughly tangled in her hair. The random thought that at least she knows he's a good hunter, quick and neat, floats through her mind. Her friends are screaming in the house, and she makes one last choice. She wants to spare them the sight of her death; they shouldn't have to see it like this. Elena drops all her weight to the side and is able to get Matt to turn with her, until she's facing Klaus and Matt forces her to her knees.

Maggie.

Maggie's eyes are wide and her cheeks are tear-streaked, but when they make eye contact, the girl swallows and that look of determination is back on her face. She's terrified but she's doing it because she has to – bravery burning bright at this moment. Elena can't help but smile proudly – her last act while still breathing – as Maggie spins and jams the missing dagger, chalky with the dust of a white oak tree, into Klaus' chest.

Elena's head is forced further back, her vision is filled with the blinding white of the winter sky and sun.

The blade stings then burns, a kiss across her neck.


	19. Part 1: Like Bottles Holding Prayers

Chapter title and two lines from 'Watermark' by Sleeping at Last, and the last line is from 'Bloodstream' by Stateless.

The second part of 19 will be posted on Monday, and the epilogue on Wednesday. Thank you for all the reviews, favorites, and PMs!

I'm just going to take a moment out here and point y'all in the direction of Toriblue's fics, because they are fantastic and if you were aggravated by the fade to black, she's got that sort of stuff covered.

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><p><strong>T<strong>he inner gears of the timepiece on the mantle grind over dust and patina, pushing the minute hand on its face forward, dragging time, reluctant, onwards. Floorboards shift under anxious pacing feet. The heartbeats of your worried friends flutter. Every sound echoes and assaults the ears.

It has been seven hours since you died, Elena, and the house itself feels empty without your presence.

For all my days on this earth, I will not forget how ferociously beautiful you were as you went to your death, unwavering in your determination. Every step you took shattered another vision of your future that I had hoped for: you, surviving unharmed; you, leaving me to have a happy life with some human man; you, swollen with child (oh, how I wished I could have given you that, my lovely Elena – to tell you that I dreamed of such things would only have hurt you); you, growing old and gray and wearing every wrinkle as a sign of your victory over your fate. It was your desire to live, and by extension, to die, and I would have done all I could to ensure you did that with all the honor and dignity you deserve.

(You would have deserved the burial of the warrior, a funeral pyre, and never before would it have been so fitting. I am not a jealous man, but to watch the earth slowly reclaim you would not be something I could stand.)

Your friends have come and gone, some silent, others vocal, some angry, others sad. They cannot bare to see you as you are now – still and dead – and yet I keep vigil. They are still too shocked by your death to feel anger at your duplicity; I know this will come with time, and I shall defend you.

Matt is beside himself with grief, but your little Maggie tries to comfort this stranger, to explain to him he holds no blame. Bree and Lucy cannot bare to look upon your lifeless form, but remain just a room away, waiting. Caroline and Bonnie come and go, shadowed by Stefan and Tyler in the doorway.

It is the elder Salvatore who has spent the most time beside you, after myself. He stood at the foot of the bed and looked down on you, his eyebrows drawn, as if he was trying to bring you back by sheer will alone.

Emotions flickered over his features faster than even I can ascertain, and in the end, he suddenly walked around the edge of the bed to lean over you.

"I'll forgive you," whispered Damon into your ear, "I would forgive you for all of the bullshit you put me through, if you just came _back_."

And while there was anger somewhere inside the husk of his voice, his fear and grief threatened to drown him. Your concern over him was always obvious, Elena, but I can assure of this: with time, he will heal. With time, he will find peace, and calm. He will always feel the pain but time will provide him steady legs and a mask to wear. He left and once more, we are alone.

I am weaker than you thought, Elena. I claim my possession of you with an ever present hand in yours; I refuse to leave your side (you own my every thought and emotion, every last inch of my body, my love – no outward mark declares this but _I know_). I guard you as you continue to grow colder and hope dwindles.

I held you and had you and heard you say those words of love, only to feel your warm fingertips drag across mine as you left to face your death a moment later. Your friends demand an explanation as to what has occurred, why I let you go.

Give me but a lyre and a way, and I would bring you back, if that was your wish.

Instead I sit beside you, powerless, and as time is dragged forward, we are all being forced to conclude the worst: You are not returning.

And what is it that I feel, my love? Anger. The deepest, blackest sort that can possess a soul. I will not lie and say I did not decimate any of Klaus' men who tried to attack us in the aftermath. My hands were too bloody in the end to carry you into the house, and Matt refused to let you go. Were I to lay waste to this place, this earth, would my actions bring you back to scold me? Would you approve? If I try hard enough, will you come back and haunt me?

You already do.

There is balance to nature, and it is because of this that I cannot understand why you have been allowed to pass. You have given your life; your death should have been returned to you.

But if it is that you are at peace, my love, then remain so. I shall guard your family, and your friends, until they pass, and their children pass, and so on. I shall do this and walk this earth alone and give this life of mine meaning.

For oh, but you were mine.

You were precious. You were radiant. You were everything good in Tatia, in Katerina, in Charlotte, and all the others. They were but fragments of you, Elena, some soul I must have known before.

It is no stretch of imagination to believe that you were made by nature; others can waste their breath describing your fair features, your dark eyes both innocent and wiser than your years. There are few, I think, who knew of _you_.

Others would have heard the myths and tales, and tried to hide from the destiny that inevitably would await them. But you were not them (the stories you've been told have made you brave).

I heard your heart's frantic beats even as you walked towards your death; never had you been so frightened. I saw your shoulders shake even as you squared them. And yet it was that same heart and its strength that pushed you forward. Your shoulders were drawn back like the string of an arrow, taught, and aimed at my brother, and yet they shook. My praise of your courage was not false.

And with this courage, your loss was your victory. You chose your death. You defeated my brother. You pressed down upon fate and bent it to your will. And you did all of this in the name of the compassion that filled you.

It was a gift and you carried it with you to your dying day. Your honor could humble the most proud, my love.

Will I be capable of the same, someday? When your loved ones are buried and gone, when there is no longer a use for me, will I be able to follow you? I possess the means now, my love, to follow you. Will you welcome me with open arms, or hate me for my cowardice?

I banish the idea almost as soon as it occurred to me, because it is your voice I hear in my mind, chiding me for such thoughts (already, you haunt me).

I hear Jeremy speaking with the others. He's saying that he wants you buried in the Gilbert plot in Mystic Falls, that after so long, you deserve to go home. He speaks bravely but I hear the boy beneath the voice, alone and lost, and I know the others are the same. I do not know how I will begin to fix them to be able to protect them. You meant to protect them and yet your death has broken them, Elena.

There is no fairytale. (Neither Damon's words nor mine bring you back.)

There is no miracle. (Prayers have gone unanswered for hours.)

There is only you, my lovely Elena, you with your unending compassion.

Your brother barely finishes speaking before you wake up, and look me in the eyes again.


	20. Part 2: Measure a Map to Find Us

Epilogue will be posted tomorrow-sorry about the wait, couldn't log in to FFnet last night.

Chapter title from 'Careful Hands' by Sleeping At Last.

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><p><strong>T<strong>hey are wearing flats, whoever is walking towards her door. Their step is firm, and there's a confident bounce to it.

It could have been the granddaughter from the trio of Bennett witches, but they left very quickly afterward.

(That narrows it down to either Caroline or Maggie.)

They don't have a heartbeat.

"It's open, Care," Elena says, because she doesn't need to raise her voice, and sounds that loud are still grating on her ears.

Before, if she couldn't sleep, she'd start to pick on little noises like the old Gilbert home creaking, or water in the pipes; sometimes a cellphone charger would give off a distracting buzz, or the TV in another room emitted a high-pitched whine. Now she hears electricity in the walls, canhear the animals outside in the woods, the trickle of the water starting to flow once more under the ice, the snow melting off of branches...she can hear footsteps and hear the Kralls move around (those left – Peter disappeared, but they have their suspicions he wanted to be turned – the desire to have an eternity to study the world the reason Klaus got to him in the first place – and escaped to do that), and the worst, she can hear the heartbeats of her friends and family.

It's the reason why she moved herself into the guestroom on the other side of the floor, the one beside the study, as soon as she could. Despite Elijah remaining by her side, she couldn't stand to think of what she might do to Jeremy, or Maggie, or Lucy, or Bree. She can _hear _Matt, but she hasn't seen him.

The last few days have been hard. She's spent time with each of them, trying to talk to them and explain and apologize. Often, her peaked emotions get the better of her and she's forced herself to calm down, to keep from the guilt and defensiveness and hurt from swallowing her whole. It's going to take a very long time to undo the damage she's done to their trust in her, but none of them want to cut her out of their lives.

Alaric is dead; Elena was right when she didn't see him wearing the Gilbert ring - Klaus had pocketed it, Jeremy's too. She and Jeremy have decided to bring him back to Mystic Falls, cremated, but he'll be buried in the Gilbert plot; his family didn't really react when they called them with the news, and it's a way to claim his relation to them. She can't think about his death for too long before getting overwhelmed with grief. The desire to shut her emotions off is too high then. Elijah's brought her back from those dark thoughts more than he should need to.

As for Damon, he's still angry, and he's spending his time in the library, drinking. She needs to be emotionally prepared for that conversation, and she just isn't there yet.

Matt's distance is self-imposed and driven by guilt. Elena feels some of it, too; she saw a chance and acted without thinking of the consequences. As much as she would hate it, she's going to ask Matt if he wants to be compelled to forget.

Caroline opens the door, quietly and slowly, and looks around the study cautiously before entering. Elena can smell the blood in the bags behind Caroline's back – Elena feels the veins around her eyes start to darken and her fangs want to drop, but she controls it. "Brought you lunch!" the blond vampire says, cheerfully, and brandishes two bags. "Thought we could talk."

Out of all of her friends from Mystic Falls, Caroline is the most supportive, and Elena is grateful for that. The bubbly young woman has supplied snacks and blood and company, even when Elena has been at her most sullen.

Elena pats the window bench beside her. "I don't need lunch but talking is good," she says with a smile.

Caroline bites at her lip and looks around. There aren't any blood bags.

"Where's Elijah?" her friend asks, worriedly.

Elena leans back and shrugs. "Not sure, but I told him to go."

Caroline drops the bags on the desk and sweeps around to swiftly sit beside Elena, and takes her hands up. "Elena," she starts, gently, but nervously. "I know this is hard, but it gets easier, I promise. And you know that Elijah is here for you, and so is Stefan, and me, too! You're going to be back to normal in no time." She frowns at her own words and thinks them over. "Okay, maybe not _normal_ normal, but pretty close..."

The brunette cocks her head, confused. "Car, I'm _fine_."

"Then why are you turning down blood and, and sending Elijah away?"

Elena stares at her for a second, uncomprehending, and then feels her shoulders drop as she puts it all together. "I'm not changing my mind, I promise."

Caroline lets out an unnecessary but dramatic puff of air and throws her arms around Elena. "Oh thank _God_."

The new vampire pats her friend on the back. "I couldn't _send_ Elijah anywhere, even if I tried. But I did convince him I'm feeling comfortable enough to spend a little time without him here. Rebekah is still missing, and it's been worrying him; he hasn't said anything but I know that's been in the back of his mind. He's got to tell his brothers about Klaus, too." Caroline becomes very still in their embrace, and Elena gives her a bit of a squeeze. "Speaking of, how are _you_?"

"Fine," responds Caroline, too brightly. When Elena gives her a dubious expression, her attempted look of neutrality vanishes. "Okay, _not_ fine. That guy was horrible, and he did terrible things, but there were times..." she drops her head to the glass and looks out on the grounds. "I know why you guys had to kill him, but I still sort of miss him. He made me feel...special. No one really did that until..."

Caroline trails off, and her gaze slides to Elena, and the young woman gives her a knowing look.

"Until Stefan did?" Elena offers, and Caroline nods curtly before eagerly adding, "But it's not like I set out to steal him from your or anything, I mean, we really didn't-"

"You guys are crazy for one another, and if he makes you feel as special as I _know_ you are, then I'm happy for you." Elena squeezes her hand.

Caroline thanks her, then eyes her slyly. "So...Elijah. That's...how long has that been-"

"Not very long at all."

"As in..." Caroline prompts.

"As in like the last two weeks."

"Yikes," comments the blond, and her friend nods. She and Elijah have only been together for less than two weeks and newly-turned vampire or not, she needs to know she can spend time without him. His presence and his touch and his..._everything_ is addictive, but just like with a lot of things, now, she's going to have to learn control.

Elena's pretty confident that even without an impending crisis, their relationship is going to a strong one; it's a little sad, but her romantic relationship with a 1,000 year old vampire is probably one of the healthiest she's ever had.

She came back for him, for her friends and family.

Her thoughts must be reflected in her expression, because Caroline swallows and says quietly: "I know it's sort of like Vampire Fight Club, but you were gone for a really long time, Elena. If you need to

talk about it, I'm sure you have with Elijah, but-"

"-I saw my Mom and Dad," she says in a rush, her voice wavering on the end and she feels the sting of tears. Yes, she has spoken to Elijah about it, but he barely knew the people she saw in that place in between. Caroline pulls her into another hug instantly. "They were there, and Alaric was, too, and he said goodbye. And my parents said they were proud of me."

She sits back, wiping at her cheeks with rough swipes of her flattened palm. "And Isobell and John, and um, Jenna. They were there. Everybody. Tatia was there, too. She said that I didn't have to come back."

Caroline does a very good job of maintaining her sympathetic expression, but the mention of the Original Doppelganger (a title Elena is not entirely sure now the girl actually should have – she saw a lot of things during her hours dead and it's made her change her thoughts on a lot of things) causes a frown. "Like, you could have remained _dead_?"

Elena nods. "It was offered, kind of like a gift. I mean, the Petrova Fire ismeant to keep the Doppelganger alive, right? I had to do whatever it wanted, but nature is all about balance. I gave my life to it, and it was willing to give me death. Ultimately, it's supposed to keep a Doppelganger from vampires, and I guess becoming one is part of that."

"But you came back, anyway." Caroline never wanted to be a vampire, and as much as she enjoys her life now, perhaps the chance to not turn would have been one she'd have considered.

"I promised I would protect my family," Elena explains. "And I...it was really peaceful and I felt like," Elena stops, and keeps herself from breaking down once more, "I felt like I could finally rest, you know? But I couldn't leave everyone like that, I couldn't leave Jeremy all alone. I'm his sister, and I haven't done a really good job at that."

Caroline shakes her head, and looks down. "I'm not really sure any of us can stay mad at you, all things considered. I mean," she pauses and takes a deep breath that she pushes back out through puffed cheeks, and she looks up and to the side as she says it. "I _was_ angry, like really angry, for some time after you left. And I think I was angry when I saw you out there with Elijah? I don't know, I was scared for you and all I kept thinking was that you were totally going out there hellbent to protect us, and probably die, and I never got to talk to you, to tell you how much I missed you..."

Caroline keeps babbling even as they hug again, and Elena eventually says that she loves her. Caroline sags a little.

"Just promise me you won't do something like that again, Elena, okay?" There's a true note of weariness in her voice, but relief as well. "I get that you were trying to keep us safe and to stop us from intervening, but we are willing to do things for you because we _love you_."

Elena wets her lips and gives herself a moment to deliberate on how she's about to word what is about to come out of her mouth. "And I love you guys, too, but sometimes...sometimes, there were choices that I needed to make, and when you guys were helping, you sort of took over the situation. And I guess I should say it was mostly Stefan and Damon, but everyone is so close. If I was going to keep myself hidden from some of my friends, it had to be all of them."

Caroline has been patient while her friend has been speaking, but she now says, as if barely able to contain the word "But we're in this, too! And _we_ didn't get to make decisions, or help you, or...I was so scared for you, Elena. Team Mystic Falls needs to stick together, alright? You can bring your Original arm candy with you, and Mags and her parents, but we'll all keep one another safe."

Elena nods into her friends shoulder. "Promise."

'No More Secrets' is starting to become her mantra.

Flashing Elena a slightly watery smile, Caroline leans over and grabs the blood bags and puts one in Elena's hand. "Now let's drink to that. Maybe this is a little morbid, but you've got to have something for lunch anyway. You and Elijah haven't left this room in hours, and I don't see any blood bags around."

Elena fiddles with the bag; she's blushing. "I'm really...um, I fed," she finally says, simply.

Maggie had visited and left sage burning. It would have been a waste, really.

(That was the excuse they are going with.)

(Because reality was darker: After Maggie visited her – it was the first time Bree and Lucy allowed her to, and the first time Elena felt it was safe – she could help but think about the nightmare she'd had, where her friend was frightened of her. It seemed as if, suddenly, the results of all of her decisions were crushing down on her and she felt horrible, she felt guilt like bile in her throat, she wondered why she had come back, and maybe, just maybe, it would be easier to turn it all off-

And Elijah saw what she was doing, and in one of the few outbursts of anger she had ever seen, threw the book he was reading across the room and moved in a blur of motion to stand before her, and took her by the shoulders. He demanded the she remember their promise, that she had given her word, and he would be damned if he were to allow her to turn off her emotions.

She couldn't keep herself off of him, then. It was as if she'd been trying to claw through him to her emotions, to drag her way back just as she had from that place in between, and he was just as intent with every sharp thrust to pin her to this earth, keep her with him. She'd made her decision to stay with him and he wasn't going to lose her.

And when she had bit down into his neck and felt his blood in her mouth, he had stilled, had crushed her to him, and muttered commands to take everything, take it all, if it meant that she would stay.

No, reality is darker and deeper and Elena doesn't know if Caroline would be able to understand it.)

Caroline stares at her for a second, and then finally seems to take into account the odd angle of the desk, and the books topped off of their typically tidy stacks on top of the chaise lounge. She almost drops her blood bag. "Elena Gilbert, you are kinkier than I am!"

Elena plays with the tail of the blood bag before finally giving in and drinking some.

She _wants_ blood, and when she does (which is just about always), she thinks she might do just about anything to get it, if she let herself go. But living with the Petrova Fire, especially at the end, served as its own strange version of preparing her: it would be easy to let the need loose, to devastate and drain and destroy just because she knows she can, but her nightmare regarding Maggie and her promise to Elijah are always remembered. Elena doesn't need that much once she has it, but she _wants_ more.

And a little of Elijah's blood goes a long way, it seems. Since it was Elijah's blood, willfully and intentionally given, that turned her, her place in the vampire power pyramid is pretty close to the top. There's a lot that goes into the strength of a vampire (vervain exposure, when they fed last, who turned them, how long they've been a vampire, etc) and she's starting to learn a bit.

"This kind of reminds me of my brother's Pokemon cards," she had remarked.

Stefan knocks at the frame of the open door and leans in. "Hello," he says, carefully gauging the feel of the room.

Elena offers him a smile. "Hi."

(She pretends to ignore Caroline's not-so-discreet happy thumbs up beside her.)

"Bonnie and the others have something they want to give you," he announces, and seems to study her "if you think-"

"I'm up for it," she assures him, and pushes off of the cushions.

He escorts them to the library, and standing around the desk in the library are Bonnie, Bree, Maggie, and Lucy, who is well healed (with Elena's blood, she insisted on bleeding into a vial and having it given to Lucy). Jeremy jumps off of the couch and she can hear the spike in his heart rate.

Stefan's head turns instantly towards Elena, gauging her reaction to the temptation, and while it's there, Elena pushes it back, locks it in some part of her head and only wants to give her brother a hug. Stefan's hand flutters by her back, but even pressed against Jeremy's shoulder, so close to his neck (when the hell did her baby brother get so _tall_?), there's no pressure in her gums, or sudden, erratic thoughts to feed. She pulls back, and can't help but give everyone an appreciative smile.

Lucy and Bree sway a little closer to one another, and both take in the sigh of Elena for the first time since she turned. When she had gone to Bree to talk about possibly turning, she had sworn she wouldn't consider the option until she had the woman's permission, since it would mean the bond between herself and Maggie would be broken. Bree admitted that she had been trying to find an alternative way, but was coming to the conclusion that dying was the only way to sever it. And while she'd never make that choice, she wouldn't hold it against Elena, so long as the Gilbert girl kept herself in check.

She looks pretty much the same, she knows, just a little paler. Blushing still happens. Cut her and she'll bleed. She wants them to see these things and know she's still _her_.

"See, Elena?" Maggie breaks the moment of awkward silence, "I told you your blood really helped Mom."

It's a discrete dig at her mother to say something, and Lucy swallows, thickly, and dips her head. "Thank you, Elena. That was...that was very kind of you."

Bonnie holds up an old wooden box and offers it to her friend. "We told Elijah that we wanted to make you a daylight ring, and he let us look through the family collection-"

"-Told you he was loaded," sing-songs Caroline, and Elena gives her a playful elbow to the rib.

Their friend rolls her eyes and continues. "We um...we thought that maybe he'd want to pick it out, you know, like a..." Bonnie loses the sentence as she tries to think of a way to recover.

Bree beats her too it. "We weren't sure if he was planning on getting you one, soon," she says.

Elena legitimately laughs as she accepts the jewelry box, which seems to shock the others. "We barely just...and that wasn't why he turned me either."

Damon's words about being an undead bride flicker through her head and she wonders if that's close to what they were imagining, that there was some stipulation to him turning her, because there's varying degrees of relief that are evident in slower heart beats, shoulders relaxing, and near-silent sighs.

"We figured you'd want to pick," finished Maggie.

Caroline's hand pops up in the air "And I call dibs on whatever you don't pick; the Salvatore family's choice in rings could double as paperweights – no offense, honey," she adds quickly to Stefan. "Bonnie promised to give me an upgrade when yours is finished."

There's a great deal to choose from, but she finally decides on a simple silver band with a round, domed piece of lapis lazuli in it. It fits well on her right hand middle finger, and the shade of the stone is light but heavily veined. She can't imagine the ring to ever really not be fashionable, and Lucy comments that it's an older piece, judging from the memories she can get from it.

It's only once all four witches are finished with the spell that she realizes her taste in eternal jewelry is only a little different than that of Elijah's.

The glass windows in Elijah's wing of the manor are all UV blocking ones, so she either has to go out onto the little balcony, or leave through the front door. She chooses to test the ring via the latter. Even though she's been missing that feeling of connection with nature, she's missed the fresh air and sounds of the open space just outside the door.

As a group, they all walk to the foyer. Stefan and Caroline both offer to walk out with her, but after she waves her arm out the door in a slant of sunlight between the columns of the front entrance, she tells them she's fine.

Elena takes her first steps back out into sunlight alone.

The blinding white of winter initially overwhelms her. She can smell the dirt and the snow, can hear the snow melting in the woods and a bird's wings as it flaps. The icicles dripping along the top of the fence are yards off but crystal clear. What she was able to sense as an extension of herself is still there, just...different, external but obviously present. She will deal with the loss. She'll recover.

The sun is warm on her face and arms, bare despite the slight wind and the definite chill. Her breath only clouds in front of her face for the first few experimental outward puffs; her body gradually loses the residual heat from inside the house.

There is the sound of a car approaching, and when it's about a mile away, Elena can make out Elijah in the driver's seat of an expensive and sleek looking car. She takes deliberate steps out of the gate (Mr. Krall had apparently been asked to invite her in as soon as Matt got her to the gates, and despite her being dead, it had seemed to count) and into the field.

The car comes to an abrupt halt while it is still in the tree line, and Elijah steps out of the car, and to watch her over the hood of the vehicle.

She starts to run and without much thought, finds that she closes the mile between them in seconds. Momentum causes her hair to fly forward around her face as she comes to a stop in front of the Original vampire, who has just stepped around the car and out of the tree line.

It's incredible, to see him out here in the sunlight. The little specks of greens and golds in his brown eyes are brilliant and even more obvious than before. His lower lip is slightly chapped from his habit of swiping at it with his tongue. She can smell the faintest scent of Rebekah's perfume, and it lingers on his clothes. He found her, then. She smiles.

Elijah returns the smile but remains incredibly still and seems to drink in her features, as if trying to commit to memory the sight of her here, for the first time since her death, back in the sun. She wants to do the same with the image she sees.

There's a weight off of her shoulders, and she gives a little laugh as they close the space between them. She grabs hold of the lapels of his wool coat and pulls him down towards her for a kiss, and it tastes like sunshine and forever and when they finally part, he takes her hand and they make their way across the field and to the river.

It is only once they are seated on the hill, watching the sun shine down onto the houses and the lives that were going on, unaware, below them, that Elijah brings her hand up to inspect her choice. She can feel the chuff of breath against her neck as he lets out a small chuckle, then leans over her shoulder to give her hand a kiss before pressing his lips to her neck.

"So much for us to see, Elena," he mumbles into her skin, and she leans further back into his embrace. "So much for us to do."

Elena feels a little guilty, because even she's disappointed that she has to remind him. "Any chance we can bring Maggie and the others in these plans? I made a promise and I'm not going back on it."

"Your words with Tatia, in the place in between, it appears she has acted upon them," he replies, and Elena twists sharply around to face him as he continues. "One of Klaus' hybrids was guarding Rebekah's coffin, and he was unable to attack me as he planned."

Elena's panic skyrockets. "Did he-was it the fire again? I didn't feel it, I had no idea."

He shakes his head. "He appeared to have hit a barrier. Healing his injuries will take some time, but those were ones that I myself caused. It seems the Petrova Fire still seeks to protect."

Tatia must have altered the Petrova Fire, calling upon the other Doppelgangers she saw in the in between place to use their power and change the magic. Then her loved ones are still protected even though she can no longer control it.

By the time Elena finally processes this and looks over at Elijah, he has settled back slightly, and is apparently casually studying the landscape below them. "Several of my properties have enough bedrooms to house the whole lot of your friends. Paris might take some time, however, to procure enough space; that apartment is basically a garret, belonged to a writer I admired – I only keep it for sentimental reasons, really. And I believe there is someone renting my home in Syd-"

"Always wanted to stay in an author's apartment," she says, with a practiced lightness. She shifts and ends up beside Elijah, leaning back on her hands as well. His gaze shifts from town below to her, and he watches her face with a neutral expression. "Probably a perfect fit for two," she wonders out loud, giving him a pointed look.

His mouth twitches upward. "I may have the apartment below it as well," he admits, and she shrugs, continuing with the playful exchange.

"Still probably a perfect fit for two."

She holds his gaze for a moment.

Outright smiling, Elijah returns his gaze to the homes and cars, the people and the smoke of their chimneys. "In about a month from now the Bois de Vincennes will be breathtaking."

A month from now would mean enough time to get things back in order, and a change in season.

Elena leans her head against Elijah's shoulder, and hums, content, when he presses a kiss to her hair.

The low notes of her voice sound a bit like "Paris in the Springtime."


	21. To Love Without Fear

Thank you to everyone who took the time to review or comment on this fic!

Sorry for the delay, the week-long event we had at work sort of ate my life. And then there may have been some ugly sobbing Thursday night.

Chapter title from 'Born' by Over the Rhine.

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><p><strong>C<strong>aroline settles back against Stefan's shoulder with a content sight. "You know," she says to no one in particular as she studies the yellow-gold light of the string lights and the scattered white paper lanterns. "I think we pulled it off. This is just about as perfect as a wedding could be for Bree and Luce. And this is giving me _so_ many ideas for our wedding."

Elena chokes on her drink. "You two?" she finally manages to say, taking the cocktail napkin from Elijah that he wordlessly offers and she takes without truly looking. She speaks her thanks by pressing into the Original vampire's side. "Finally?"

Stefan looks down at the top of Caroline's blond head affectionately and presses a kiss there. "She finally found the right cake baker."

"It's not a proper wedding without a spectacular wedding cake," Caroline counters, playfully stubborn. "So what if it's been like, almost twenty years? These types of things are important."

Elena thinks cake is cake, and while it's fantastic if it's delicious, it's all about having your loved ones present.

With an eternity before them, and new and strange lifetime ahead of her, Elena spent the first decade after her death trying to 'figure herself out', and during that time, she rationalized that there really wasn't much of a reason to get married; she and Elijah were committed and that wasn't going to be made any more permanent by putting rings on their fingers.

But then sentimentality won out, although only slightly; time was still precious for a lot of her friends, and she wanted them there for the event if she were to have a wedding.

("Do you want to get married?" she suddenly asked Elijah one day while he had her against the shower tiles, held their by his muscular form pressing and writhing against hers.

"Of course," he responded once he lifted his head from lavishing her breasts with kisses.

They spent the rest of the day enthusiastically celebrating their impending nuptials, and then the next making phone calls to ensure that their Aruba home would be able to accommodate the group.

They were both thoughtful people deeply in love with one another, and holding an over-the-top wedding with huge white dresses and wasted shipments of flowers seemed tacky in comparison to their relationship's sacredness. Candles and the surf and their loved ones, that made much more sense.)

The wedding was a low-key affair held over a long weekend on the island, and both Elena and Elijah were shocked by the attendance of Rebekah and Kol, who had not spoken to them in years.

Caroline and Stefan have been engaged for two decades, and while it's obvious neither is having second thoughts about marriage, Caroline's perfectionism streak has reared its hideous head in regards to plans. Elena has admitted to Elijah (in private and far, far away from vampire ears) that she's half convinced Caroline will only be happy with flowers once she's opened her own business, a cake and reception food once she's gone to culinary school, and music once she's learned to play all of it herself and record it.

Elijah lifts his glass. "Congratulations are in order, then."

Their glasses clink together delicately, and the tone is similar to the high peels of laughter from the small child in Mag's arms. The little boy is entranced with the paper lantern and the flickering LED candle within it that his father had reached up and plucked from the low-hanging tree branch. The trio make their way over to the four vampires.

"Sheriff Donovan," Stefan greets Matt, with nod of his head and his beer bottle.

"Salvatore," the man says, a tone of fraternal familiarity resonating in his voice. "Been a while since you visited Mystic Falls."

Maggie hoists the baby a little higher on her hip. "We see Elena and Elijah so much we're sick of them," she adds lightly.

"Not true," protests Matt, and his eyes nervously flicker to Elena's. She swallows down guilt and another mouthful of champagne and forces herself to look out over the dance floor. Still a difficult subject for them, after all these years. Still something that haunts him, according to Maggie.

The DJ is gone, as are most of the partygoers. The only ones left now that the wedding and reception are over are close family members. While Lucy and Bree, both beautiful in their long white gowns, haven't left one another's arms or the dance floor, others have let their hair down.

Or their glamors, as is the case for some of the guests.

It was a mixed crowd at the couple's wedding; they were marrying after so many years together that there were a lot of 'outsiders' who knew them and insisted on attending. To keep up appearances, the Bennett witches cast glamors on their vampire friends to have them appear to have aged twenty years, to avoid questions. Photographer and less familial guests gone, everyone was back to looking like themselves. Damon plugged his mp3 player in and the dancing continued.

He and Elena are trying to make amends, and salvage their friendship. There's been enough time to heal, and to talk. It took a few years to get to that point but they finally did. He looks for no partner as he moves on the dance floor, but seems to be enjoying himself.

Elena hears laughter, and it takes her a second to differentiate between Bonnie and Ellie. Ellie Gilbert – named after both her aunt and uncle, her devoted, protective godparents – is between her parents, her attempts at being a 'cool' teenager having vanished with the DJ's assistant's exit, and she allows her parents to take turns spinning her around. Jeremy, Bonnie, and Ellie boogie circles around Lucy and Bree's soft swaying at the center of the dance floor.

Her magic is manifesting (much to Bonnie's anxious happiness) and does so in creative ways (much to

Jeremy's pride), and Elena can't help but smile, bittersweet, when she realizes her goddaughter's suddenly gangly form has lost its childhood thickness, and seems to hint at the curves of a woman.

And so now Maggie, Bonnie, Matt, and Elena are related by marriage, their relationship now legally proclaimed. It's fitting and strange, all at the same time.

The night goes on, and Elijah excuses himself from the conversation to cut in on the Gilbert family's dance to take Ellie for a turn around the floor, allowing Jeremy and Bonnie to dance to a slow song together.

Elena mouths 'Thank you' to her husband, and he gives her a warm smile in return.

She watches the slow moving pairs on the floor for a second before Caroline taps her on the shoulder.

"Look," she says proudly, brandishing a digital camera. "I found some."

"Found some what?" asks Maggie, sitting down on the other side of the table. She repositions Mattie so she can crane her neck over Elena's shoulder.

"Gray in Elena's hair. Look."

It's not a trick of light, it's definitely a small patch, actually, of gray hair, slightly off-center in Elena's hair. The photo on the camera screen is jarring, seeing as it was taken when they still had their glamors on. Beside her, Elijah is only slightly older, but wears his age handsomely.

"You got grays before me," sing-songs Maggie, who uses her elbow to nudge at Elena.

"I _am_ older than you," Elena replies, but her eyes are entranced by the sight on the screen. This is what she would look like, if she had lived, if that had ever really been a choice. She would have been older than Charlotte.

Elijah and Ella make their way over, and the Gilbert girl holds out her hands. "Aunt Mags, why don't you and Uncle Matt go dance? I'll hold my cousin."

She looks to her godfather for approval, and Elijah slips the girl a positive nod of the head and a wink before he moves around the table to sit next to Elena in a chair he pulls up beside hers.

Elena watches the careful hand off of the infant, and allows herself to delicately take hold of one of her nephew's little feet to secure a sock that was starting to slip off. Her eyes greedily drink in his healthy plump little body and the curiosity that he regards the world with, and has to force herself not to think about the future she'd never have.

As if aware of the sad direction of her thoughts, Elijah's hand brushes at the nape of her neck, and he kisses her there.

Stefan and Damon now stand to the side, talking, and the others are all dancing with their loved ones.

"I know it's taken us a long time to get to this stage, but we're going to have the wedding soon," says Caroline suddenly, but keeps her voice down. "We want everybody to be able to be there, and enjoy it."

The frown that twitches on her face is only momentary before she understands; if Caroline and Stefan were to wait another twenty years, Lucy and Bree would be in their eighties. Lucy is a fabulous and fit woman in her sixties, but Elena has started to notice that Bree is slowing down a little, not too much, but it's noticeable in the vibrant woman who is known for a fast wit and a faster serving time at her bar.

"I've lived a full life, baby," she told Elena just recently, "and it might just be catching up with me."

"Perhaps you might want to wait a year, though, as I know one member of our group may protest about the pictures." Elijah takes the moment to tell them, in a low voice. "Bonnie doesn't know yet."

Earlier in the day, Stefan had come pulled Elena to the side and said that he was pretty sure he could hear an extra little heartbeat. They had all looked to Elijah for confirmation, with his slightly better hearing.

Bree and Lucy are going to be so excited about another baby in the family. Both Maggie and Bonnie's children are treated like their own grandchildren, and they will be ecstatic.

"Bonnie will be as old as Lucy and Bree when this kid graduates school," Caroline realizes. Her gaze travels from the dance floor to her silent friend. "We have to watch all of them die," the blond murmurs, voice thick with emotion, with impending loss and painful realization. "They're all growing old and having babies, and what do we get to do? We get to spend all these years as friends, and then...they die. We get to lose them."

"We get to watch our friends _live_, Care," corrects Elena, keeping her voice quiet. "We are going to get to watch all of their kids grow up and have children of their own, and we get to watch over them and make sure that they have safe, full lives, and keep doing that. Most people only have a short lifetime to do that."

Out of all of the vampires present, Elena is the only one to have made the choice to turn, something that Caroline and Damon have both brought up once or twice over the years.

She'd do it again, too. Both she and Elijah have spent more than their share of time, over the years, intercepting vampires attacking humans. They don't seek it out, but if they see it, they take care of it. And when they do, the Petrova Fire is on their side. Elena's control over it is steely but she is not afraid to use it when it is needed. She never would have been able to save the lives she's saved if she hadn't turned.

She'd never have experienced the love that she is a part of, now.

The others think it's a little strange, that for a couple so in love, they spend quite some time apart. Elijah takes care of business that is sometimes boring, Elena spends time going to places she finds interesting that he doesn't care to revisit. They enjoy their time alone and apart just as much as they enjoy their time together.

Elena will have no plans of leaving Mystic Falls for the duration of Bonnie's pregnancy. While she is there, she will wear her glamor (gray hairs and all), and she will interact with the town as they know her: Elena Mikaelson, the small town girl born and raised in Mystic Falls who married that British historian who initially came to town pretending to be named Smith. They've been explained that his deceit had something to do with the book he was writing, and it was be shrugged off as another of the little quirks that the couple has.

They're both writers, anyway, and writers are artists.

'Artists are weird people', she's overheard at Founders' events.

The Mikaelson house in Mystic Falls is a house in the middle of the woods, but not too far from both the Donovans or the Gilberts – the latter couple still live in the old Gilbert home.

She'll spend time with her family, and visit the cemetery (Alaric is buried beside Jenna and the rest of the Gilberts). There will be barbeques and decade dances that she'll chaperone. She and Jeremy will teach Ellie how to make Gilbert family chili, despite protests from Damon over the phone from Chicago that it still sucks. There will be Founders' Council meetings where Sheriff Donovan reports back that everything is quiet to a room filled predominantly with vampires, werewolves, and witches. There will be a new Bennett witch or warlock to welcome into the world. The Bennetts and the Donovans and the Gilberts will live and flourish, have happy, safe lives, and she'll get to be a part of them.

Life will go on.

And maybe it won't be every night, but Elijah will be there. His body, and the way it moves with hers, his incredible mind and his beautiful words are things that will never change. Even as the others grow old and the world changes and little by little the world and the life she once clung to and yet took for granted slips away, Elijah will be there.

They are their own mutual anchors, North Stars, and touchstones.

Always and forever, they have promised one another. This is the oath of the Mikaelsons, and Elena is most definitely one.

And as they are both people with a great sense of honor, they will hold tightly to that, as tightly as they hold hands now and go to join their loved ones dance.

(Life is a celebration and they will not stand by and simply watch it. They will fling themselves into the flurry of color and noise and enjoy it for all its worth, and they will do so and will not waver.

Like Bree and Lucy, they will linger on in their dance, longer than the others.)


End file.
